Say an Ave
by Zarianwen
Summary: An unorthodox circus comes to Jump City.
1. On a Train

She'd fallen asleep with her head against the rain-spattered window, her light breath fogging its surface. She seemed oblivious to the slight rocking of the train, able to sleep almost peacefully with only the slightest, almost unnoticeable furrow touching her brow. Across from her, he sat with his arms folded over his chest, staring out at the rainstorm they were passing through. He'd stretched out his right leg so his foot could rest beside her lap.

He turned his head when he sensed her shiver, noting the goosebumps on her arms. He stood up from his seat to reach into the compartment above him and pulled out a blanket. Sitting down beside her, he lightly nudged her with his elbow.

"Hey," he said as her eyelids flickered, "wake up for a minute."

She lifted her head slightly from the window and cracked open one pale blue eye. "What?"

He spread the blanket out over the both of them, giving her enough to wrap around her shoulders. She accepted it, tucking it around her opposite side before leaning into him with a small hum.

"How much longer till we get there?" she asked.

"Ghost came by a few minutes ago who said it would only be about another half hour."

She groaned. "Honestly, I'd rather just sit in the train. I don't want to stop."

Holding back a sigh, he silently agreed. The thought of stopping, setting up, performing, and then setting out to do his _real_ job afterward made his stomach twist.

"We're going to get caught one of these days," he said, tracing the round red jewel on his metal wristband, "and then we can get out. Once we're caught, good and officially, you and me will bust outta here."

"And we'll go back to Amity," she said.

"Yeah. Back to Amity."

They had this same conversation often. "Once we're caught," they'd say, over and over again. Because, surely, they had to be caught eventually. Someone had to figure out that wherever the circus stopped, bad things happened.

Well, not everywhere the circus stopped. That's what made it so infuriating.

Having realized that people would begin to make a connection between his circus and the crime sprees, the ringmaster had decided that they would have to pass up opportunities once in a while to cover their tracks.

Mulling all this over for what seemed like the millionth time, he decided to bring up something they hadn't talked about in months.

"You could get out now," he said quietly. "Nothing's keeping you here."

She stiffened. Sitting up and pulling away, she glared at him, hard.

"I'm not talking about this again!" she snapped.

"Star—"

"No! Not another word or I _swear_ I'll…" But she couldn't think of anything bad enough to threaten him with.

He took her hands in his own and looked her in the eye. "It's not forever. I'll get out when we're caught, but you could go ahead of me, you could slip away, get back to your family and tell mine that I'm safe—"

"But that would be a lie, wouldn't it?" she challenged, removing herself from his grasp. "You're _not_ safe."

"I'm plenty safe. They feed us, clothe us, give us a place to sleep. It's not like he beats us or anything. Considering he's a ghost-obsessed psychopath, he treats us pretty well."

"Oh, yeah, the brainwashing, mind control, mental torture, and experiments are really great signs that he cares!"

He rolled his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have brought this up.

"I'm not leaving you, you idiot," Star said, crossing her arms with a huff and turning her back to him. She glared out at the rain. "I could never go back home to my family and then have to face your parents and say, 'Don't worry, Danny's fine, just peachy.' I couldn't _do_ that."

The train moved on as they sat in silence. A distant lightning flash momentarily lit the sky outside the window.

Danny leaned forward and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Okay. I understand."

"Good," she ground out. "Now don't ask me again."

His arms circled around her from behind, and despite how she tried to maintain her anger, she couldn't help the light blush that crept into her cheeks. Lately, this had been happening a lot. He'd get closer than she was used to and it would send butterflies swooping through her stomach.

_Who knew,_ she thought sardonically, _that I could ever feel this way about Danny Fenton?_

As she turned to face him again, to touch his cheek and look into those sad, deep blue eyes, she thought that, despite how crazy the idea had seemed at one time, it only made sense now. They'd only had each other for so long, of course they'd become close. They had to be.

There were only three humans in the entire circus—the ringmaster himself, Star, and Danny. And unfortunately for them, Danny was only a human half the time. They'd been thrown into this mess together, relied solely on each other for comfort, for human contact, for humor, for everything.

She didn't know, exactly, what their relationship was at this point. It wasn't quite as platonic as a brother/sister relationship, but it wasn't anywhere near _non_-platonic enough to qualify as a romantic one. She knew by now she loved him, just not exactly in _that way_. Or maybe she did, but what could she do about it? Love would just make things hard, make them awkward. They needed each other too much to start thinking that way.

_That's sort of twisted logic_, she thought, smiling despite herself.

Dismissing these thoughts with a small shake of the head, she simply leaned into him so that his arms could keep her warm for the rest of the trip.

After all, she only had half an hour more before his arms would become decidedly colder.


	2. Darn Commercials

**As far as Danny Phantom is concerned, Phantom Planet, Control Freaks, and Reality Trip never happened. Danny and Star are both 16 and most of the actual series took place their freshman year in high school. As far as Teen Titans is concerned, Season 5 hasn't happened yet. But if something from Season 5 slips in there on accident, well... it was an accident :) Just thought I'd clear that up.**

* * *

"I'm bored," Beast Boy announced, sitting upside down on the couch in the main ops room. He waited for a response, but received none. Frowning, he lifted his head enough to make sure there were others in the room, and indeed there were. Cyborg was at the fridge, getting mayo for his sandwich. Robin was at the computer, going through some crooked company's database he'd hacked into. Starfire was sitting next to him, cooing to and playing with her giant-mutated-moth-larvae-pet, Silkie, which Robin was skillfully ignoring.

Beast Boy dropped his head once more so that it was hanging upside down, reasoning that he must not have spoken loudly enough. "I'm _booored,_" he said, adding volume.

Still, no reply. He heard the fridge swing closed and Starfire giggled.

Taking a deep breath, he all but shouted, "Man, I'm so BOR—"

"Beast Boy," Robin interrupted without taking his eyes off the screen, "We heard you the first time."

Beast Boy sharply exhaled the rest of his air. Rolling off the couch he popped back up to his feet and put his hands on his hips. "Well, then let's do something!"

"I _am_ doing something," Robin replied.

"No, I mean something fun."

"Beast Boy, we must not interrupt Robin while he is doing the hack and slash," Starfire piped up, standing and cradling her gurgling pet.

"It's just 'hacking,' Star," Cyborg corrected around a mouthful of sandwich. "Hack and slash is a type of video game."

"Oh," she said, embarrassed, "Yes, I remember that."

"Fine," Beast Boy continued, "Robin's out then. But the rest of us could go do something!"

"What exactly did you have in mind?" Cyborg queried, a reluctant look in his human eye. "Because I was kind of hoping to wax the T-car and fix the com system in the T-ship before we had to use it again."

"Ugh, Cyboooorg!" Beast Boy whined. "How long will that take?"

Taking another generous bite of his ham and turkey sandwich (watching made Beast Boy's stomach churn, thinking of the last time he was a pig), Cyborg shrugged his massive blue shoulders. "I dunno, a couple hours? Depends on if I find anything else I wanna tweak on the T-ship."

Beast Boy moaned. Getting desperate, he turned to Starfire. "You're not doing anything but playing with Silkie."

Starfire looked almost wounded. "But playing with Silkie is of the greatest importance," she argued. "I have had hardly any time to spend with him, and he becomes lonely and then he eats things he should not, which you should know can cause many problems!"

"But _Star,_" he pleaded.

"If we wish to go out for the having of fun, we can take Silkie with us, yes?" As she spoke she raised the larvae in question, who wriggled as if to prove himself.

Beast Boy heaved a dejected sigh. He flopped back down onto the couch. "I guess I could always ask Raven if she—"

"Don't," Robin interrupted once again, finally turning from the computer to raise one eyebrow from under his mask. "She's in sort of a bad mood today. I'm not sure why, except that—" He cut off, apparently not daring to say more.

"Except that what?" Cyborg asked. Robin pressed his lips into a firm line and turned back to the computer. "Aw, come on, man, you can't just start a sentence like that and then let it hang there!"

Robin resolutely shook his head.

After a moment, something seemed to dawn on Starfire.

"_Ohhhh,_" she said, a knowing tone in her voice. "I see."

"What?" Beast Boy asked, confused. "What do you see?"

"Robin is merely wondering if Raven seems to be in the bad mood because it is her time to be a female," she explained, to which Robin whipped around with an embarrassed, "_Starfire!_"

"Well, that is what you were thinking, is it not?" she protested, rocking Silkie in her arms.

"How should I know?" he demanded, face flushing despite himself. Robin did not like to be flustered.

Also embarrassed and regretting he ever asked, Cyborg cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Any_way_," he began, turning to Beast Boy, "Why don't you go to the arcade?"

At this, Beast Boy seemed to perk up a bit. "Yeah. The arcade! Yeah!" He jumped up over the back of the couch and started to make his way toward the door. He'd taken just two steps when said door slid open to reveal the very subject of their previous conversation—Raven.

"Beast Boy, you were banned from the arcade, remember?" she said in usual her monotone. All three boys in the room froze. Had she overheard them talking about her?

Only after Beast Boy's initial concern did her words register, and then his shoulders slumped. "Oh yeah. That's why I haven't been in so long…"

Raven brushed past him into the room, nothing apparently amiss, and made her way to the kitchen area. Getting out the tea kettle, she paused.

"And just so you know, I'm not PMSing."

The boys stiffened and Starfire tried to disguise her amused giggle with a cough. Nobody dared ask what else might have caused Raven to be in a bad mood.

"And also…" she continued, letting the sentence trail ominously as she filled the kettle with water. The other Titans prepared themselves for a berating they knew _someone_ probably deserved, Starfire covering her mouth with a short "Eep!"

"I was thinking we could all go to the circus this weekend."

Four Teen Titans stared. In complete, total, and utter disbelief. Beast Boy's brain turned over the sounds he had just heard, examining them for their true meaning. Surely, she'd been speaking in some kind of code. Cyborg gaped with a mouth full of half-chewed sandwich, wondering if she'd suddenly developed some new, random sense of humor. Starfire almost dropped Silkie.

"Raven," Robin said cautiously, "are you okay?"

Raven turned to meet the gazes of her stupefied teammates. "Of course I'm okay. Can't I initiate social time without something being wrong?"

Wisely, no one answered that question.

Torn between annoyance and amusement, Raven said, "Here. I'll show you." She raised one hand and lifted the TV remote from afar with her powers, turning on the TV. She flicked rapidly through the channels until she found one that suited her, saying, "Watch."

The other Titans obeyed.

On the screen was a close-up view of a rather creepy character. A bald man with deathly pale skin, dull, bugging red eyes emphasized with black liner, a long, pointed nose, and grinning yellow teeth. Beast Boy immediately saw the reason for Raven's interest.

"Greetings, outcasts of Jump City!" said the man with a light British accent, looking and sounding so much like one of the villains the Teen Titans fought that Robin instinctively felt himself tense. As the man on screen spoke, the camera suddenly zoomed out, revealing a black backdrop and an eerie red swirl of smoke hovering behind the man, turning hypnotically. Beast Boy had a momentary flashback of the last time he'd faced that type of swirl and had to remind himself that this was not the same.

"I," continued the man, holding up a wicked looking cane topped with a glowing red crystal, "am Freakshow, ringmaster of the _Circus Gothica!_" With this announcement he slammed his cane to the ground with a sharp _crack _and the scene shifted, cutting to a glowing skeleton juggling grinning skulls, the sound of squeaking bats and fluttering wings pouring out through the speakers. Starfire clutched Silkie a little closer.

"Circus Gothica," Freakshow narrated, "Where your nightmares come alive!" The scene shifted to a hooded man, only his glistening red teeth visible, as he held up a gleaming scythe. With a slash of the scythe, the scene changed. "Where the clowns never smile!" A trio of clowns emerged, opening their red-painted maws to reveal rows of teeth like knives and let out an eerie chorus of screeches. Starfire hugged Silkie even tighter, forgetting that she might be cutting off his air supply.

The commercial cut back to Freakshow, grinning like a madman. "Loners, pariahs, freaks of all ages! My fellows! Are you ready to smile, relax, and forget all your troubles among the pleasant diversions of the circus?"

Taken aback by this question, Beast Boy quickly understood as a burly man covered in piercings and freaky tattoos, his head completely covered by a black, spiked mask, roared a frightening but obvious negative to Freakshow's question.

"Then you've come to the right place!" Freakshow cried, descending into a fit of maniacal laughter.

Cyborg glanced over to Raven to see that she had actually allowed herself a small smile. Just her cup of tea, this creepy Freakshow guy. And Raven loved tea.

Freakshow went on: "Prepare to be disturbed and appalled by our shining example of all that is bizarre and abnormal in the world, at _Circus Gothica!_"

The scene finally shifted to a still photo of some rather questionable-looking members of Circus Gothica's cast and a list of dates, times, and the location where the circus would be held. "Buy your tickets today!" Freakshow's voice encouraged, and then the commercial was over.

Raven shut off the TV.

"Okay," Beast Boy began, "at first I was totally confused. But now it makes so much sense."

Raven's mouth twitched into a smirk.

"Raven," Starfire began hesitantly, "I am not so sure that this… circus… is something I would like to see." She had finally loosened her hold on Silkie, who despite being a larvae still needed oxygen and was currently panting in an effort to regain his breath.

"It won't be that bad Starfire," Raven assured, turning up the heat on the burner her kettle sat on. "They wouldn't actually do anything to hurt anyone. It's just a show."

Starfire still looked doubtful.

"I have a bit of an issue with going too," Robin put in. The others turned to him, a little surprised.

"You saying you're scared?" Cyborg asked in disbelief.

Robin sat up straighter. "Of course not," he replied. "I just… don't like the circus. I have some… unpleasant memories associated with it. And with clowns. I do _not_ like clowns."

"But you saw the commercial," Raven argued. "They're not like normal clowns. They're _supposed_ to be scary."

_Exactly my point_, Robin thought, but he kept it to himself.

Beast Boy decided to put in his two cents. "Besides, Raven, what freaks could be better than all of us? Compared to everybody else, we're our own circus show!"

The team smiled at this, and Raven admitted that he was right. "But we're _not_ performers," she added. "This is different."

When the team continued to say nothing in their reluctance, Raven sighed and turned to get out a cup and a tea bag. "Fine. I just thought we could do something _I _picked for a change. Because whenever we go out it's always somebody _else_ who gets to decide what we'll do." She knew she was playing the guilt card, but she really, _really _wanted to go to this circus, and there was very little chance she'd have another opportunity in the near future. "After all, it's not like I _just_ got used to the idea of having fun or looking forward to things after my evil father nearly destroyed life as we know it." It was a low blow, but it would work.

Cyborg and Beast Boy let out a simultaneous groan. Robin pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"All right, you win," he submitted. "We'll go to the creepy circus this weekend."

The four other Titans accepted their fate with affirming nods, Starfire's shoulders slumping.

With a small smile that somehow managed to look mischievous, Raven poured herself some tea.


	3. Pray

**An explanation as to how and why Danny and Star got where they are will eventually be given. Just not for a while. **

* * *

"All right troops!" Freakshow merrily announced, "We're here!"

The assembled ghosts, most disguised as freakish humans, politely and unenthusiastically cheered.

The smile slipped from Freakshow's face. "Please, contain your excitement," he muttered. Shaking his head dismissively, he continued. "I need to inform you all that this particular stop still will not be, ah, our _normal_ sort of stop, if you catch my meaning."

Danny and Star, standing at the back of the small crowd, exchanged glances.

"That is to say, we will not be picking up any extra merchandise or the like," Freakshow tried to clarify. The ghosts murmured amongst themselves for a moment, letting the information sink in. No robberies. No vandalisms. No threats, blackmail, or profitable assisting of escaping prisoners. Some of them looked disappointed. Most of them looked like they didn't care.

"Again, your reaction is just explosive."

Freakshow abruptly raised his cane, swinging it through the air as the crystal on its end began to glow. The eyes of his ghostly cast lit up in reaction. Danny, still human at the moment, nevertheless shut his eyes tightly and shuddered. Star grabbed his hand.

"Now, get to work and set up the tent!" Freakshow barked. "Everyone to their duties! You know your jobs; move it!"

As the ghosts disassembled, Danny and Star waited together, knowing he would have something additional to say to them. Sure enough, the second Freakshow was satisfied his orders were being carried out, he approached them.

"Phantom," he snapped. Danny reluctantly opened his eyes and fixed the ringmaster with a hard look. "Change."

Holding in a sigh—something he felt he did a lot these days—Danny released Star's hand. With a muttered, "Going ghost," he searched inside himself for the otherworldly presence that was his ghost half. Finding it and grabbing hold, Danny allowed a ring of light to appear around his middle that split in two, each ring traveling opposite ways over his body and changing him into his alter ego.

Now a ghost, his eyes momentarily glowed a brilliant, piercing green before they melted to burning crimson.

"There's a good lad," Freakshow said, raising his staff. The cuffs around Danny's wrists glowed briefly and the boy's eyes became hollow. "Now, I want you to take extra care and stay out of sight here," Freakshow warned. "Except for the finale performance, I want you to be _invisible_. I'm sure, as a ghost, you can manage that fairly well, can't you?"

Danny nodded as Star's expression soured at the pitiful joke.

"Right. Go help the others unload the train then."

Another blank nod, and Danny flew off to do as he was told, leaving Star to confront Freakshow.

The ringmaster looked down at her somewhat contemptuously. She crossed her arms. "So, Angel," he said, using her stage name, "I want you, my little normal, to dress up and go advertise your normal self around the normal people in this city."

She tried not to give him a dirty look at his overuse of the word normal. Dirty looks got people punished.

"It's easy enough to attract the freaks, but the normal people are really the ones with the money. Convince them our show is just the thing they need in their monotonous little lives right now."

"Yes, sir."

Giving her a condescending pat on the head, he turned to leave. She had already done the same when Freakshow stopped suddenly as if remembering something. "Oh, and, Angel?" he called. She looked back. The stare he gave her was threatening. "Don't even think about asking anyone for help. With anything. For any_one_. I'll be watching you." He pointed to the silver bracelet welded on her wrist that functioned as both her permanent tracking device and electronic bug.

She looked down at the ground so that the sight of his face wouldn't tempt her to give him the stink eye. "Yes, sir."

Satisfied, he nodded and left.

_What was that all about?_ she wondered, making her way to the costume car. Freakshow knew she'd never run off without Danny. He counted on it, really. He knew she'd never go to anyone for help, either, because the second anyone found out, Danny would be the one to pay for it, and Freakshow would just get away free anyway. Freakshow had her in his pocket so long as he had Danny under his control, so why the extra warning?

_And why_, she wondered, _aren't we stealing things at this stop?_

She'd seen the city from the train window, and boy, did it look ripe for the picking. It was huge, modern, wealthy, and probably already full of so much crime they could have easily pinned their illicit activities on someone else.

Star couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something, and it had to do with this particular city. Perhaps they'd been there before? Perhaps the pickings had been slimmer than anticipated?

_I don't even remember what the name of this place is_, she thought, finally reaching the door of the costume car. She opened it up and stepped inside, biting her left pinky nail out of habit in what Danny referred to as her "thoughtful pose."

_He made that commercial, like, only two weeks ago. I should remember where the heck we are!_

She continued to rack her brain as she rifled through her box of costumes, trying not to feel stupid. Back when she'd still gone to high school (not to say she'd graduated; no, she and Danny had just been rather convincingly "encouraged" to drop out by their very own ringmaster) she'd often been teased for being a bit of an airhead, and she wasn't as good as Danny at not letting those comments get to her.

"It used to bother me freshman year," he'd said once. "I mean, you remember, people thought I was kind of a freak. But I just learned to let it roll right offa me, y'know? I know myself better than they do; who are they to tell me what I am?"

Star shook away the memory, realizing she'd let herself become distracted by it. Even though Danny really had just the wisest, cutest little smile when he'd said that—

_Dangit, Star,_ she chastised. _Concentrate!_

At that moment she unearthed her gypsy costume, probably one of her most suitable for the current task. She pulled it from the box and shook it out, holding up the long, heavy skirt for inspection.

_That'll do. It's not like I'll need to jump around and do tricks just to adver—_

She cut herself off mid-thought.

"That's it!" she cried.

Jump. She was in Jump City.

Suddenly her breath caught as she realized why Freakshow didn't want them to steal and why he'd warned her not to ask for help and why he wanted Danny, his ghost form known to many as a criminal, to be extra careful and stay out of sight.

_The Teen Titans live in Jump City!_

She basked in her realization, thoughts already running a thousand miles an hour as she pictured all the ways the Teen Titans could save them, could free Danny and all the other ghosts and put Freakshow behind bars where he belonged. Before her access to any media had been completely cut off, she'd seen them on the news and internet all the time, defeating bad guys no one else could. If anyone could help, it would be the Teen Titans!

But, then, just as quickly as the thought had elated her, she realized it didn't matter.

She had no way of contacting them. Her every move was tracked, her every word recorded. When they stopped somewhere to perform, Freakshow only allowed Danny to be human after the show when they weren't planning to commit crime. When he was asleep anyway, with those wristbands that could catch him in the throes of mental torture at a snap of Freakshow's fingers. Danny couldn't seek out the Teen Titans any more than she could.

_The other ghosts wouldn't help. And even if they wanted to, they couldn't. Freakshow's got them too tightly under his control._

Sinking down to the floor of the costume car in sudden despondency, Star held back an irrational onset of tears.

_This is what you get for getting your hopes up,_ she berated herself.

She dropped her head in her hands. _It's hopeless. What was I thinking? Nothing can get us out. No one is going to catch ghosts committing crimes. No one is going to see that the circus is what brings the crimes; there are too many places where we don't steal. I can't leave to find the Teen Titans, I can't call them, I can't get someone else to do it for me. No one ca__n help us. _Her first ray of hope in almost a year, bright even with its brevity, snuffed out like a candle in a cold wind.

Star was not a religious girl by any stretch of the imagination. True, her parents had drilled into her an acute aversion to foul language, but beyond that they'd never even taken her to church.

However, sitting in that dim costume car, realizing that even with a team of superheroes practically at her fingertips she and Danny were still hopelessly trapped, Star realized it would take a true miracle to ever, _ever_ win their freedom. So she prayed. Silently, so that the thing around her wrist could not betray her, she prayed, clasping her hands together and closing her eyes tightly.

_Please,_ she said, _if you're up there, I need your help. Danny needs it. Maybe I'm not a good enough person and I don't deserve it, I mean, there was that little pregnancy scare when Kwan was already dating that other girl, and then I did all those mean things to Paulina when—wait, sorry, I'm getting off track. Um. What I mean is, Danny is such a good person. He doesn't deserve this life. If there is any way, any way at all, help us. _

Feeling a strangely peaceful sensation come slowly over her, Star opened her eyes again.

_Help us. Free us._


	4. Looking Forward To It

**Took a little license with Star here. Hope no one minds, but it fits too well. I've been trying to refrain from correcting some of the characters' grammar too. We'll see how that goes.**

* * *

The second Robin cut the motor of his bike, he knew he was in for an ordeal.

He removed his helmet as the T-car came to a stop in the next parking space over, trying not to grimace. His four teammates quickly stepped out of their ride, Cyborg making sure to lock the doors and turn on the alarms. (Had to keep his baby safe, after all.)

"This looks… promising?" Cyborg attempted, observing the scene before him. Starfire quickly sidled over to Robin, as if to hide behind him. Raven merely looked pleased.

Before them was a large grassy field. This, in and of itself, would not have been a bad thing. But the things _on_ the field stirred some strong feelings of trepidation.

Freaks. Freaky, freaking, freaks. People with all sorts of unnatural body modifications—horns, spikes, gills, forked tongues, extra digits, no digits, new joints in strange places on their bodies—people with sharp objects, people playing creepy, scary music. People dressed up in extremely convincing monster costumes, some of them looking so real that even the other freaks seemed unnerved by their proximity. A man at a table with bloodshot eyes that could stretch the skin of his face almost completely over his own head. A woman reading fortunes out of the freshly bloodied bones of who-knew-what animal. A gaunt, ashy-skinned man strapped inside a giant wheel, moaning and laughing and making all manner of strange, haunting sounds as random members of the crowd threw knives at the wheel as they passed. Broken carnival music coming out of a broken carousel, its steeds painted and carved into all manner of grotesque figures, random sparks flying out of the mechanisms as they turned.

And all this stretched out between the Titans and their final destination: one, giant, looming purple tent, a black, sinister face painted over its entrance as if the whole thing were a beast straight from Hell, come to devour them whole. Beyond the face's gaping mouth was nothing but a sea of blackness, occasionally broken up by sudden flashes of light and the roars of vicious beasts.

Gulping, grabbing tight onto Cyborg's arm, Beast Boy gave a nervous laugh. "Okay, well, I've had enough of the circus! Whaddya say we head back to the tower?"

Cyborg shook him off, though it took some effort. "It can't be that bad," he reasoned. "I bet once we're in there everything is going to be fun. And exciting. Right?" He turned to look at Raven for confirmation.

"Right," she agreed, her expression never shifting. "It will be fun."

Beast Boy and Starfire didn't seem to believe her.

"I guess we should head over then," Robin suggested. Nobody moved.

Strapping his helmet to the R-cycle and finally getting off, Robin stood up to his full height, squaring his shoulders. Silently, he prayed that someone was going to try robbing a bank in the city so that they'd have a reason to skip out, but they'd just caught a bank robber the night before and there was little chance of a repeat so soon. And the bigger baddies, it seemed, were all taking their vacations this month.

"Alright, Titans," he announced, using his team-leader voice. "Let's move out!"

Instantly responding to his tone, the Teen Titans made their determined way into the crowd. In a matter of seconds, they'd been swallowed by the freakish mob.

* * *

"Ooooooo…" Starfire breathed in awe, eyes growing wide as she looked into the depths of the crystal ball. She leaned in closer, closer, closer still, actually bumping her nose against the surface. Unblinking, her eyes flitted around to try and take in everything she could see inside. "Robin, this device is the most amazing thing I have ever seen!" she enthused. "I can see all the tiny frightening people moving about and they are performing these wonderful tricks and little dances!"

Curious, Robin leaned in across from her, squinting into the depths. "That's not what I see. There are a bunch of creatures floating underwater, and they're glowing and…" He stopped as he realized Starfire had shifted her gaze up to him, and as they were both leaning as close as possible to the same thing, their faces just so happened to be mere inches from each other. And the light coming from the crystal ball lit up her face and eyes in such a way that Robin found himself tongue-tied.

"And…?" she asked, green eyes bright after hearing his description.

Robin blinked rapidly behind his mask and tried to employ what little biofeedback techniques he knew to keep his face from turning red. "Uh. I forgot."

Starfire giggled.

At this, the weathered, hag-like gypsy sitting at their table opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted by the shouting of two familiar voices.

"YO! ROBIN!" Cyborg cried, bursting into the gypsy's booth. Smiling hugely, he held up what looked to be a large wad of cotton candy on a paper cone. "Check this out!"

Beast Boy raced in behind him, holding two handfuls of the same substance. "It's so freaky!" he gleefully exclaimed.

Robin was about to ask what was so freaky when he was beaten to the punch by Starfire. "Cotton candy!" she burst, well-educated on the treat's more delightful qualities by none other than Robin himself. She quickly reached out for some of Beast Boy's.

Instantly as her fingertips made contact with the cottony fluff, it parted as if it were a mouth and immediately chomped back down on Starfire's finger. She jerked her hand away with a yelp as Cyborg and Beast Boy started to laugh maniacally.

"It bit me!" Starfire whined, rubbing her stinging finger.

"It's cotton candy that _bites back!_" Beast Boy explained, waving the stuff in Robin's face. Robin leaned back, smiling at their antics.

"Care to see a vision, boys?" croaked the gypsy, still sitting at the table. "Every person who looks sees something different. A vision to tell you of your past, your present, your fu—"

"Sounds awesome!" Cyborg agreed, shoving Robin from his seat to the ground and settling himself at the table. Starfire stood hastily as Beast Boy ushered her out of the way by waving his man-eating cotton candy toward her.

"Come, Robin, let us find Raven," Starfire said, helping the masked boy to his feet again.

"Sure," he readily agreed.

All in all, the circus had been, for lack of a better word, fun. So far the Titans had only perused the outside attractions, as the main show inside the tent had not yet started. Quickly drawn in by the fascinating, the strange, and the strangely fascinating, even the wary Starfire and Beast Boy readily started to enjoy themselves. Cyborg and Beast Boy had eventually taken off together, zipping from place to place like frantic bees. Raven had disappeared from Starfire's and Robin's sides soon after.

"Let's try over there," Robin told Starfire, pointing as they exited the gypsy's booth. Smiling, Starfire seized his extended hand and skipped in the direction he'd suggested. Robin wasn't sure if she was aware of the slight butterflies-in-the-stomach effect the simple contact had on him. If she was, she was being awfully coy about it. Not that he minded.

After getting sidetracked by a mini circus for some strange, mixed-breed squirrel-type animals, Starfire and Robin finally found Raven participating in a game, of all things.

They stepped up behind her as she took aim with what appeared to be a gun. On the wall in front of her was an array of freakish humanoid figures, held up by pins. Raven pulled the trigger and out of the gun's barrel launched a wicked-looking jagged spike. The spike expertly impaled one of the things pinned to the wall, which popped open like a balloon and splattered everything around it with a red goo that looked suspiciously like blood.

At Robin's cough, Raven turned. Her pale gray face was splattered with red, her large purple eyes shining with poorly concealed triumph. She gave her friends a small smile.

"This is fun."

Robin couldn't help but laugh. "You look like a crazy murderer," he said, pointing to his own face to demonstrate what he meant. Raven wiped at her face and then looked at her reddened palm.

"You're probably right."

Aiming true three more times, Raven won a prize that may or may not have been an actual, mummified monkey's paw.

Just when she took hold of her prize—thankfully wrapped up—a sudden ringing sound began to echo over the entire field. People stopped or slowed whatever they were doing as a voice spread out over the assembly.

"My fellow freaks," came the voice of the ringmaster from the commercial, "while I hope you have enjoyed your time outside the tent, the real attraction can only be found within! Now that the sky is at last beginning to darken, please, make your way inside, and prepare yourself for a true thriller!"

* * *

She was putting on her makeup when Danny entered the tiny dressing room. He was already in his costume, minus the face paint. "Looking good, devil-man," Star greeted, scooping up more white cream onto the makeup sponge. She began to apply the white liberally to her neck, her hair tied up and out of the way.

Danny didn't return her greeting. "I don't like this act," he said bluntly.

She paused, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Looking down to get more white makeup, she casually asked, "Why?"

"You know why."

Star crossed her ankles and leaned closer to the mirror as she spread her makeup, maintaining nonchalance. "I'm getting a little sick of you treating me like I can't take care of myself. I'm fine. It's fine. Everything's fine."

Danny came closer, his red eyes showing his concern. "I'm not trying to treat you like you can't take care of yourself. I'm _trying_ to keep you safe. I don't know why Freakshow insists you be the one in this act. Some other ghost could whip up a disguise and look almost exactly like you, and you wouldn't have to risk getting yourself killed."

"Look, Danny," she sighed, turning around in her chair. She poked him in the chest. "I've been in ballet since I was five. I've been in gymnastics since I was four. I was the lead in the fall musical and I was in—"

"Five other school plays," Danny continued, annoyed. "And you've been a successful, stealthy cat burglar for about a year now, with no missteps. I've heard it all before. That doesn't mean this isn't dangerous. One tiny slip is all it would take!"

"And you'd be right there to catch me," she retorted. His mouth pressed into a hard line, not satisfied. "I was _born_ to perform, Danny. I can _do _this. I may not be a genius and I may not have special powers, but performing is my thing. We've pulled this off the last two stops without a hitch, and we're going to again. Just trust me."

"I _do_ trust you," he admitted grumpily, resting his arms and chin on the back of her chair. "It's the stage I don't trust. If you can call it that."

Star turned back to the mirror, continuing to paint herself white while Danny sulked. She felt he needed a little more assurance. "I'm good at this. That's why Freakshow wants me in. Because I'm a natural performer, and there's not one ghost who could do the act as good as me. Plus, there's not a single ghost who could perform so well with _you_." Glancing at him in the mirror and seeing his thoughtful frown, she briefly reached back to pat his sprayed-black hair. "Take a deep breath, devil-man. We're gonna do great."


	5. Performance

**This is the chapter I'm the most unsure about. It's also the longest so far, so let's hope that means it's good and not that it drags.**

**I'm also just remembering that usually people put little disclaimers before their stories and whatnot. You'd think any disclaimers were already implied, seeing as this is a _fanfiction_ website, but... In any case, for the entirety of Say an Ave, I'll just say it now: I don't own Danny Phantom or the Teen Titans. That about cover it? Let's hope so.**

**Oh, and any comments about "capturing the audience" were intentionally supposed to reflect that line in Reality Trip where Freakshow expresses his pleasure at having a "captive audience." Just thought I'd point that out ;)**

* * *

First came the contortionists. Now, Robin had seen contortionists before, but never like the ones at Circus Gothica.

Sitting in the highest seats near the back with a bag of popcorn, he had to stop eating to avoid getting sick at some of the bizarre contortions the performers got themselves into. Beside him, Starfire hardly blinked, her expression a mixture of completely horrified and utterly riveted.

Next came the clowns. Despite how different they were from normal clowns or even the particular brand of clown Robin had "encountered" in Gotham, he still had to concentrate to avoid letting any remaining similarities get to him. Sensing his initial discomfort, Starfire took his hand, which immediately made the whole thing much better.

After the clowns came knife-throwers, tumblers, acrobats, tight-rope walkers, musicians, stunt performers, and always, throughout each act, more freaks. The music and lights that accompanied the different acts all seemed brilliantly coordinated to enhance the show as much as possible, getting the audience's hearts beating all the faster and their breath catching all the more often.

A hypnotist entered the ring, pulling members from the audience and putting together a show that was equal mixtures humorous and creepy, and certainly _very_ entertaining. Past experience with hypnotism not having gone so well, however, none of the Titans volunteered for that particular segment.

Each act, punctuated with an appearance from the ringmaster, Freakshow, in between, got a little more unbelievable than the last until finally they came to the one that turned Beast Boy into a passionate, die-hard Circus Gothica fan. The animal show.

Every single animal was like nothing Robin had ever seen before. Frankly, he wondered if their existence would even be considered legal. Some of the species combinations he saw were just _that_ off-the-wall. Surely, there was some sort of law against messing with genetics that much. And several of them, he realized after blinking several times, seemed to be glowing. And slightly green.

Flying animals, aquatic animals in a giant tank of water that changed color with the lights, running, leaping, roaring, clawing animals; all were present and trained within an inch of perfection, swooping in to lead the eye one way only to be intercepted by something else what would burst onto the scene. Along with the animals came actors, playing out haunting stories of being mauled or possessed by evil animal spirits, or of turning into the animals themselves. Beast Boy couldn't get enough of it; he stole a pen and small notebook from Robin's utility belt and began frantically cataloguing all the different creatures he saw for the sole purpose of trying to shape himself into these new forms later.

The rapidly flashing lights and racing music that steadily increased in tempo signaled the climax of the animal show as all at once, with a perfectly choreographed final race through the center ring, the assembled beasts punctuated their display with a primal chorus of roars. Streaming blasts of fireworks shot up from the ground as the actors let loose their own chilling, wild howls, and then the entire tent was plunged into silent darkness.

The audience burst into applause, flooding the air with whistles and shouts and a quickly building chant of "Encore! Encore!"

The Titans applauded with them, Starfire and Beast Boy the loudest of all.

"Thrilling!" Starfire exclaimed, so full of excitement she'd risen a few inches out of her seat and begun to float there. "The horrible, unnatural creatures are wonderfully terrifying!"

Robin found himself grinning at her enthusiasm. Funny that she had been so afraid of coming before, he thought. The animal show, and frankly everything in this unorthodox circus, was certainly nothing like he'd expected. He was glad to be able to disassociate it from his past.

Robin turned his attention back to the floor of the tent as the lights circling the center ring began to slowly come back to life. They shifted to a pale purple hue and brightened enough to reveal a grinning ringmaster standing center stage, gazing triumphantly out into the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, throwing one arm into the air and immediately quieting his enchanted audience, "thank you for your fervor! I hope you have enjoyed tonight's show as much as we have enjoyed performing for you!"

The crowd cheered their approval as Freakshow spun in a slow circle, hand still outstretched as if to summon their voices forward. When his hand pointed toward the Titans Beast Boy jumped to his feet with a zealous "WOOOOO! YEEEEAAAH! ENCOOOORE!" Cyborg tugged him back down into his seat with a chuckle.

"However, my dear audience," Freakshow continued, quieting them once more, "as much as I hate to burst your bubble, I must inform you—" Here the ringmaster cut off dramatically, suspending his audience on the edge of a sudden worry that he was about to say something terrible. Flashing an almost savage, hugely wide grin, he announced, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"

More cheers followed. Even Cyborg and Robin were caught up by the infectious mood of the crowd, and Raven actually leaned forward in her seat.

"I am pleased to announce that for tonight's grand finale, Circus Gothica has saved the best for last! You are about to witness a performance only a chosen few have had the privilege of seeing. Our stars tonight, though they have been with us for some time, have only recently created this fantastic display of drama, acrobatics, chills and thrills that characterize it as part of the one and only _Circus Gothica!_"

"Bring it on!" Beast Boy crowed, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice carry. Cyborg didn't bother to stop him this time.

With an expert twirl of his jewel-topped cane and a theatrical toss of his coat, Freakshow spun on his heel and disappeared in a cloud of crimson smoke.

Once again the lights blacked out. The audience's cries instantly died down to a low murmur of anticipation, but even that disappeared as quiet music began to play.

Gradually, the music increased in volume. The melody was a sweet, if slightly haunting, violin solo. It seemed strangely out of place in the dark and it captured the audience's curiosity; the general creepy theme of this circus had not prepared them for this pretty tune.

All at once, at the very highest space of the tent, the lights flashed on. Brilliant white, the spotlights lit up an unexpected scene and one solitary figure standing on a beam, poised like a statue high above the crowd.

Within the now illuminated space hovered dozens of cut-out clouds, each painted expertly in shades of pale blue, white, and soft gold, as well as a myriad of crisscrossing wooden beams, also painted white. The clouds seemed to be hanging down from some sort of mechanism that caused them to circle slowly, serenely around the central figure. From some hidden spot above a light shower of silver sparkles began to descend like snowflakes; the song of the violin suddenly lilted, and the lone figure began to move.

Immediately shifting from a stance as still as stone to breathtaking, fluid grace, a girl clothed entirely in white danced along with the violin. Her face and arms had been painted white, her stage makeup highlighting her pale blue eyes and petal-pink lips, her honey-colored hair framing her face in two demure braids. Sweeping out from her shoulders were two snowy wings that, somehow, managed to emphasize her motions instead of hindering them.

Like some angelic ballerina, the dancer's movements increased in energy as the violin was joined by more instruments. She jumped from one beam to another with the chirping of a flute, elegantly swept out her arm or pointed her toe with the warm hum of a cello. She danced in circles in and out of the hovering clouds, barely alighting on one narrow beam before flitting to another.

While the dancing angel was no doubt out of place amongst the rest of the circus's dark, disturbing performances, the audience was nevertheless utterly hypnotized. Robin realized he'd been holding his breath since the girl had begun to move and so inhaled sharply, embarrassed at himself. This circus really knew how to capture an audience.

The girl continued to dance, beaming a charming smile as her enjoyment seemed to increase. She let out a silvery laugh that carried to every ear and leapt nimbly back to the center of the turning clouds. Touching down, she lifted her lily-white hands and turned her face upward to the light.

Abruptly, the pleasant music shifted, the white lights darkened to gray, the clouds stopped their motions, and the angel froze. Even the cascade of sparkles fluttered away and vanished from sight, leaving the scene utterly motionless, suspended in time. The orchestral music dipped down to a low, angry hum.

Red lights flooded the rest of the tent, some flashing like strobes, some spotlights that refused to settle any one place, painting a chaotic scene. The music rose like a wave, strings squealing, brass booming, roaring like a legion of angry demons, and all at once around the ring shot up columns of red fire.

The audience cried out in a collective startled shout, leaning back in their seats.

A cloud of black smoke erupted on the ground, center ring, and out of it shot over a dozen laughing figures, tumbling, turning, cartwheeling, dancing wildly as their crazed voices added to the music. The black cloud dissipated as suddenly as it appeared when a blast of that red fire exploded outward from its core. Blood-colored sparks rained down, in contrast to the angel's sparkling flakes of silver, and there, leaping out of a mass of flames, came the star of the show.

He wore all red trimmed with orange, black and gold patterns painted across his face, and his eyes actually _glowed_ a sinister crimson. His evil laughter overshadowed his minions', somehow managing to echo—actually _echo_ within a giant tent—and saturate every empty corner of the huge space.

The black-clad figures who had first appeared turned at the entrance of their apparent leader, and in unison they flocked around him and began to dance almost violently. With sweeping arm gestures they drew circles of red fire in the air, drew arcs and strings of it, dangerously leaping over and through and under and all around the flames in complicated patterns that dazzled the eye. Their hands and feet caught fire as they all turned together, movements perfectly in sync as they reveled around their wicked master.

In the midst of their garish celebration, the angel's violin solo began to weave through the frightening music once again. The dark figures on the ground gradually slowed their dancing as the violin became more prominent, though they never stopped completely. His wolfish grin sliding to a confused and angry grimace, the master tilted back his head and raised one arm to point straight up, almost mirroring the angel herself.

The gray lights above were replaced by their former white and the angel immediately resumed her solitary dance, apparently oblivious to the devils far below.

The air in the crowd became absolutely electric as every last witness shared in anticipatory concern for the angel.

Their concern was well founded. The instant the angel began to move, the leader of the dark ones let out a roar, and he and every last minion leapt into the air as the entire floor of the ring burst into flames. The audience screamed; those nearest the ground moved back, frightened of the heat that, somehow, was not actually present.

They watched in awe as the black devils actually appeared to _fly_ to the top of the tent, laughing in a way that sent chills up the spine. They surrounded the slowly rotating clouds, feet and hands lighting with flames of even greater intensity than before. Fast-pounding drumbeats, low, sonorous strings, and a core-shaking organ melody successfully choked out the pleading violin with ruthless glee.

The angel stopped mid-dance, her eyes widening with fear, holding out her hands in vain as if to shield herself from the red glare the devils' fire had thrown into her scene of white.

Trailing brilliant orange flames, the leader shot upward in a spiral after his underlings and entered the circle of clouds with the angel. The ring of dancing black bodies drew closer around the contrasting pair, their arms and feet shooting arcs of flame all around, and suddenly they were leaping from trapezes hung amongst the clouds, flipping, twisting, grabbing hold of one another's arms and launching their flame-wielding comrades through the air.

The leader of the devils began to circle the angel, as if daring her to resume her dance. She met the dare, twisting lithely away from him, but the second she drew too close to the black circle they linked their arms, each one still hanging from a trapeze by their knees, and spun in a high speed circle. This effectively created a spinning barrier of black and flaring red.

The angel skittered back to the center in a series of expressive turns, moving from beam to beam, back to _him,_ and the music once again shifted. Through the racing, pounding melody, a slower countermelody began to play. Low and almost seductive, the new melody flitted in and out of the faster one the way the angel had moved between her clouds.

Smiling wickedly, the leader of the devils held out his hand to the pale angel.

Her expression and body language screamed her shock. As her opponent took a hovering step forward she spun back, landing on a beam on the tips of her toes as her arms floated up to keep her balance; she was apparently incapable of flying as the others did, despite her wings. Instead of taking his hand, she turned around him and then stopped, arms poised, willing to dance at a distance. Red eyes flashing, orange flames at his fingertips flaring, he accepted the conditions, and the two began to dance.

Never touching, they wove a complex pattern around each other, swaying, dipping, nearing each other and then abruptly swooping away, all in rhythm with the ever-present, blood-pumping music. The underlings around them slowed, flipping elegantly from their trapezes. Now floating in the air once again, each one turned to a neighbor and began to echo the movements of the pair in the center. Along with their dancing they shot crescents of fire over the heads of the couple in the spotlight, each blast seeming magically to land wherever the couple had just leapt away from. With every passing moment, the intensity with which the central pair danced seemed to increase.

So far the angel had depended on her superb balance to keep her up in the air, expertly jumping and turning on the white beams she began on. The leader of the devils, seeing this, abruptly threw out his arms just as he and the angel leapt away from each other into the air, and the beams burst into flame.

The angel gave a cry and the audience held their breath.

Spinning as she fell, feet first and hands lifted above her, the angel slipped right through the beams; her flawless wings caught fire, trailing twisting tails of orange as she plummeted helplessly toward her doom. The audience cried out; surely she would die, there was no net, no safety below her, and whatever trick the others used to fly had been cruelly denied her.

The music thundered, rose, almost screeching in a deafening crescendo; a streak of near-blinding orange shot down from the beams toward the angel, setting the clouds behind it aflame with an expanding wave of fire left in its wake. The minions halted abruptly and threw more torrents of red fire into the clouds, knocking them from their perches so that all at once they began to fall, dazzling comets descending toward the earth. At the same time the angel let out one, piercing, heart-wrenching cry of despair.

Suddenly the streak of orange intercepted her fall; it swept her up but then continued their racing plummet to the still-burning ground. In formation, the black-clad devils began to fall after the clouds and their master. Their hands still aflame, they spun dizzyingly fast as they fell, each figure creating a small circle of fire with the pinwheeling of their arms.

With a unified cry, the audience watched as the angel and the leader of the devils impacted with the ground in an colossal explosion of fire. The blast went so high it swallowed up both the falling clouds and the devil's minions.

Flames shot over the heads of the audience and they all cringed away, many raising their arms to shield themselves from the storm.

_This _can't_ be safe!_ Robin thought to himself, standing out of instinct as if to do something.

After a moment, however, the flames died down enough to once again reveal the ring. The audience leaned forward, searching for the angel and the one who'd caught her.

A beam of light shot straight up from the center of the ring. Within it floated the angel, wings ragged and black, held securely in the arms of the one who kept her aloft. The black underlings stood in a circle around the light, staring up in apparent awe.

All at once, the bodies of the angel and the leader ignited.

A woman in the audience let out a terrified scream, the rest gasping in shock.

Completely enveloped in flame, the angel and her partner once again began to dance, this time in mid-air above the black ones who stood stock still. The leader of the devils supported her, lifted her, tossed her high into the air as if she weighed no more than feather, never letting her fall even without any balance beams to support her. The angel's violin began to play again with the music, only this time it was not so bright, not so sweet; it was changing.

The music began to slow. Along with it, the dancing pair began to slow as well. Their movements became less theatrical, more intimate, more captivating.

Gradually, the intense flames on their figures began to diminish along with the lights all around them, leaving only a faint red glow on the devils and the solitary spotlight shining upward on the fiery pair. The slow music spun at the slightest suggestion of their bodies, emphasizing each turn of the shoulder, each extension of an arm, each mid-air step.

Finally, at last, the leader of the devils threw his partner into the air; she landed, standing on his upturned palms, and the flames on their bodies vanished completely.

Where there had once been an angel dressed in white there was now a girl in red, trimmed with orange, her arms held high above her. The music arched for another brief crescendo as, propelled by the hand of her partner, she leapt once more into the air, higher than she had yet to do. With that one elegant leap she gave away all her trust, left her fate completely in the hands of the devils' leader. The second she left his grasp the music stopped, the tent fell into a dead silence, the vertical beam of light brightened as the underling devils' red glare snuffed out, and then the former angel began, almost in slow motion, to fall.

Her partner raised his arms and soared toward the girl; the instant his fingertips brushed against her the tense air cracked open with one final, violent trill of the violin, and as the fallen angel descended into her partner's triumphant grasp with both white arms sweeping toward the heavens, everything went pitch black.

For one, heavy moment, the audience was left in utter silence.

Abruptly exploding in a barrage of noise, they began to cheer. The applause was deafening; Robin couldn't even hear what Starfire was shouting next to him as she waved her arms in the air. Beast Boy hadn't been able to contain himself and had morphed into a gorilla, furiously pounding his chest as he bellowed his approval.

The lights came back on to reveal the ringmaster, the angel, and the leader of the devils standing in the ring, smiling out at their audience. If possible, the noise managed to increase.

No one could hear the ringmaster give his thanks, but he took a bow anyway. With a grand, sweeping gesture, he then pointed to the finale's stars. Taking each other's hands and raising them high, they bowed as well.

The applause lasted for more than five solid minutes before it began to even consider quieting down. The rest of the finale's cast filed out into the ring, waving and smiling as they took their bows, and these were followed by the rest of the night's performers.

When Freakshow could finally make himself heard again, he called out his thanks. "Remember to tell your friends, your family, and any other freaks you know," he sang, "to come and see Circus Gothica! We'll be here all week!"


	6. Communicate

**Just in case anybody's confused, the special effects in the last chapter were almost entirely done by ghostly means. Namely, the fire and the flying and whatnot. The animals were ghosts, like Vlad's experiments from "Maternal Instincts." Freakshow's ghosts have also been shown in "Control Freaks" to be able to disguise themselves as humans pretty well, albeit freaky humans, so that's where that comes from. I hope nobody's thinking I'm coming out of left field with this stuff.**

**Basically, if you're confused about something, I'm using episodes I've seen to justify it or it'll probably come up through a character's explanation in the story. And if not... feel free to complain I guess. This goes for both Danny Phantom and Teen Titans.**

* * *

Aside from the fact that she and the person she cared about probably more than anyone else in the world were still members of an insane man's traveling circus against their will, Star was having a good night.

She loved to perform. She loved the cheers, the crowds, the music, the lights. The attention. _Always_, she loved attention. Performing made her feel alive. She'd been lucky to have parents who were wealthy enough to pay for all her childhood pursuits, such as ballet and gymnastics, and distracted enough by their money-making jobs to pay for whatever she wanted out of unrealized guilt. All those hours practicing, all the recitals and competitions, had paid off. She could actually be, despite how corny it sounded, a star.

After the finale that first Friday night in Jump City, she _was_ a star, and she knew it. Star the star. Or, really, Angel the star. Like that was any better.

Silly names and wordplay aside, she was quite pleased with herself, standing there holding Danny's hand as the crowd screamed their praises. Danny, though he'd never admit it, had enjoyed himself too, and in addition to the elation she got from the crowd's reaction she could actually _feel_ the temporary contentedness that emanated from her partner. She cut him a glance as Freakshow began his final announcement to see that his smile was actually a little genuine, his stance relaxed. She gave his hand a squeeze as a bubble of happiness rose inside her.

_Hopefully I get a few hours before it pops._

The end of Freakshow's announcement signaled his permission for the cast to move about and mingle with the members of the audience. Towing Danny along, Star immediately bounded toward the edge of the ring.

She couldn't deny her relish as she was flooded by admirers. A gaggle of rather normal-looking teenage girls complimented her beautiful dancing, while a decidedly much less peppy group of goths gave her "props on turning to the dark side." She thanked them all, even the occasional flirtatious guy. Those were certainly entertaining; their attentions "secretly" bothered Danny and the ghost boy was terrible at hiding it. When she was approached by a six-year-old boy (_What stupid parent would bring a little kid to this show?_) who bashfully asked to shake her hand, she crouched down and accepted, adding a kiss on the cheek as well. The boy blushed furiously and then glared up at his dad as the man laughed.

Waving father and son goodbye with a smile, she felt Danny briefly touch her shoulder to get her attention. "Freakshow's calling me," he said as she turned.

For a second her happy expression slipped, but she quickly put it back on. Standing from her crouch, she nodded. "Okay. I'll be fine alone for a little."

He turned to leave, and she turned to her next group of fans.

Her jaw dropped.

The short green one in front instantly jumped forward. "Hi! My name's Beast Boy, and I just wanted to—"

"You're the _Teen Titans!_" Star screeched, cutting him off, hands flying to her cheeks. Within her chest her heart gave a shriek, leaping as if electrified. They were here! They were _here!_ Right before her, the answer to her prayer, in _Circus Gothica_ of all places; they'd come!

The green one, Beast Boy, blinked. "You know us?"

"Of course! Who doesn't?" _How am I going to ask them for help? I'm being recorded; I can't say anything out loud…Oh, crap! I already said "Teen Titans!" But they probably would have said something like that anyway, so it was kind of unavoidable…_She quickly glanced behind her to see if Freakshow was anywhere near. Luckily, the crowd was thick and he was nowhere in sight.

At her comment Beast Boy shrugged and grinned, looking a little pleased with himself. "Yeah, I guess you're right. We're kind of famous!"

He stumbled suddenly as he was pushed aside by the girl in a purple miniskirt and thigh high boots, her long red hair swinging as she gave an excited little jump. "I most thoroughly enjoyed your dancing!" she beamed, clasping her hands to her chest. "Were you not terrified to be falling through the air without flight?"

Star tried to smile naturally, she really did, but her nerves had all but exploded from the onslaught of tension and it was difficult. She said, "My partner has never dropped me, so I've never had a reason to really be afraid. And besides, Circus Gothica is all _about_ fear, right?"

The girl, apparently not noticing anything strange about Star's expression, laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh, yes! Truly horrifying!"

Star looked behind her to the other three members of the group. Her palms were suddenly sweaty with nervousness. She _had_ to communicate with them in some way. But how?

"Oh—Forgive my rudeness, I have forgotten to introduce my friends," the girl continued after following Star's glance, stepping to the side to provide Star with a better view.

"You forgot to introduce yourself," Beast Boy reminded her, quickly taking back his original place in front of Star.

The girl's hand, skin tinted a surprising orange, flew to her face in embarrassment. "It seems I did! My name is Starfire, and these—"

"Robin, Raven, and Cyborg," Beast Boy cut in, pointing to each individual as he said their name.

"Hello," Star said, throwing in a little wave. Robin returned the wave with a smile; Raven simply gave a tilt of her head, short purple hair sliding over her cheeks. Cyborg, however, moved forward and held out his enormous metal hand. "It really was a great show," he complimented. Star took his hand for a shake, briefly marveling at how gentle and controlled his grip was despite how powerful he looked.

"Thank you. I'm just glad you enjoyed it. My name is Angel, by the way."

"Angel," he repeated. He smiled, releasing her hand. "Seems that fits pretty well."

She gave a shrug as if to say, "What're ya gonna do?"

Starfire, feet lifting slightly off the floor _(And she's not even a ghost!)_ floated over to Star's side, carefully lifting one of her blackened wings for closer inspection. "Please; you must make new wings for each performance? How is it that your dancing friends are able to fly? And how is it that you are not burned by the fire, and your clothes have changed color? And—"

"Starfire, performers never reveal their secrets," Robin interrupted with a short, good-natured laugh. Star nodded her agreement when Starfire turned to her for confirmation.

"'Fraid so," she said, clasping her arms behind her to hide their trembling. "Trade secrets and all. Freakshow is kinda paranoid about his magician secrets getting out. I'm not allowed to talk about it." _Or about how the other performers are ghosts. Or about how he's a crazy lunatic and he's holding me and another human captive._

Star felt herself quickly getting desperate. There they were, chit-chatting aimlessly, while all she wanted to do was grab one of them and scream, "Help me!" Her chances were slipping away by the second, like sand through her fingers. Freakshow could appear any moment. _Come on Star, _think_ of something!_

She noticed Raven's body tense slightly, apparently out of nowhere. Her dark, violet eyes suddenly turned sharp, scrutinizing Star with the slightest of concentrated frowns touching her lips.

_Maybe she can read my mind. I don't really know what powers she has, but that would be awesome. FREAKSHOW IS A CRAZY LUNATIC AND HE'S GOT ME AND MY FRIEND IN THIS CIRCUS AGAINST OUR WILL! Can you hear me? No? Raven? Okay… Now I feel stupid…_

She was going to freak. No pun intended. Maybe if she just told them, they would be able to help no matter what Freakshow heard later. He didn't check over his eavesdropping devices until long after performances anyway, so she had at most a few hours before he would even know she'd said something.

At the mere thought of voicing her plea aloud, however, Star's insides trembled. The instant Freakshow _did_ find out she'd asked for help, especially when he'd taken extra time to warn her specifically against it, the consequences would be dire. He might just lock her and Danny away, out of sight, until he was able to pacify the Titans and get them to think she was just a stupid, attention-seeking drama queen. And then he'd be mad. Very mad. He'd never hurt her, of course. Just Danny. Building on the guilt she'd had from the very beginning, the very first day in the circus.

Her inner tension was getting so bad after only a few seconds of these thoughts racing through her head that she was afraid her eyes would tear up simply out of frustration.

Then. Salvation.

Beast Boy held something up, his sharp-toothed grin charming and a little bashful at the same time. "Hey, I hope this isn't too weird, but…can I have your autograph?"

Star's heart stopped. _He can't hear me if I write it down!_

She barely refrained from grabbing the green-skinned boy in front of her and kissing him out of sheer, jubilant relief. Behind him, Cyborg buried his face in his hand with a laugh and Raven rolled her eyes, pulling up her blue hood with a sardonic look that said, "I don't know this kid."

"Sure thing!" Star chirped, instantly reaching out to take the small notebook and pen. Beast Boy noticeably brightened.

Her hands were shaking. She couldn't help it. The tip of the pen touched the paper—

"What have we here?" came the sudden, horribly familiar voice. Star jumped, the pen slipping across the page. A shadow fell over the notebook in her hand. Her heart sank, the blood draining from her face so suddenly she felt her lips turn cold. She stood there, frozen, forgetting to mask her expression. Her lungs constricted; she couldn't breathe.

"Ah, an autograph?" Freakshow continued. She didn't dare turn to see the look on his face. Beast Boy gulped, apparently wondering if he'd done something wrong by making the request. Star's expression probably didn't help. She barely heard what came next; the voices began to sound distant. "How wonderful!"

Knowing she needed to react, _now_, Star began to write. Fingers moving robotically, she gave her usual message—"Beast Boy, Don't be afraid to cross over to the dark side once in a while! Love, Angel—"and signed her stage name in big, loopy letters. When she was done she couldn't believe the pretty, perky thing on the page had just come from her. Numb, she held out the notebook and handed it back to Beast Boy, plastering a fake smile on her face. "Here you go!"

She nearly cracked when Freakshow gave her a pat on the head. Beast Boy read the message with bright eyes, thanking her. Then he flipped the notebook shut, handed it and the pen to Robin, and Robin stored it into a compartment of his yellow belt. Out of sight, out of reach. Locked away.

One and only chance gone, Star turned just slightly to finally look at Freakshow. With a malicious glint in his eye, the ringmaster tapped the side of his nose twice, then turned and walked away. She tried to swallow, but her throat had gone dry.

"Well, I guess we shouldn't hold you up too long," Beast Boy said reluctantly. "You probably have a lot of other people you need to talk to."

_No, _she thought, _you're the only ones I need to talk to. I just can't talk out loud._

She felt herself attempt a smile, already planning to run and hide in her cot the second they were out of sight so she could have a proper breakdown. _I can't ask for it back. Freakshow would hear. He'd know why. _

Beast Boy raised his arm in a parting gesture. _Wait. Don't go. I need your help. Don't leave me here, Danny needs you, I need you, even the ghosts need you!_

Her eyes fixed themselves on Beast Boy's arm, convinced it would be the last of him she'd ever see, and then inspiration struck.

Before he could turn away she seized his wrist. For a moment he seemed alarmed, until she gave him her best flirtatious smile. Then he gaped at her. She mimed writing with a pen, quirking her eyebrow in a clear request. Dumbly, Beast Boy turned back to Robin and held out his hand. Robin looked confused, but nevertheless retrieved the pen once more and handed it to his green friend. All without saying a word, which made her stomach flutter with a combination of joy and anxiety.

Star took the pen from Beast Boy's grasp, immediately sliding up his long black sleeve and scribbling across his arm. When she was done, she quickly tugged the sleeve back into place, leaned in right next to his ear, and whispered so quietly that no one else in the crowded room could hear (and hopefully that included the thing on her wrist, which she smothered with her other hand anyway), "My number."

She retreated from him hastily. His expression was dazed, his eyes slightly unfocused. He opened his mouth to say something but she put a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. Removing her hand to press her finger to her own lip, a clear signal to remain mute, she winked. Then, with a parting wave and a coy flick of her braids, she turned and slipped into the crowd.

_I just hope that worked._


	7. Suspicious

**In fifth grade we did a bird-watching unit. We had to go somewhere and bird watch for a certain number of hours each week. At the pond one day, this girl in my class was there at the same time I was. She found a little duckling on the shore and was scooping up water to sprinkle on its head. When the duckling got back in the pond, she continued to pour water on it. A few minutes later its feathers became so waterlogged it couldn't swim properly and drowned, unable to lift its head out of the water. It was unbelievably depressing seeing that tiny little body floating in the water, not moving. **

**Now that I've successfully ruined your chances of being in a good mood, I'll explain that this little anecdote was the inspiration for a metaphor in this chapter. **

**I don't know if I like this chapter, but it's got what it needs and I don't want to sit on it any longer than I already have.**

* * *

As Star conversed with a young boy and his father, Danny heard something. Or, rather, he sensed it. It was more of an impression in his mind than an actual sound.

_"Phantom. I need to speak to you."_

Danny shook his head as if to dislodge the message, his mood plummeting. He watched Star crouch to shake the young boy's hand and lean in for a swift kiss on his round cheek, causing the boy to blush. The father laughed boisterously and his son shot him an embarrassed glare. They began to move away, Star waving goodbye with a happy smile. As much as Danny hated to put a damper on her good mood, he couldn't just disappear on her either.

Moving forward, he briefly touched her shoulder to get her attention. "Freakshow's calling me," he said as she turned. The happy look on her face slipped for just a second, but she recovered quickly. Standing from her crouch, she nodded.

"Okay. I'll be fine alone for a little."

Resisting the urge to touch her face, her hair—for his comfort or her own, he wasn't sure—Danny turned away, leaving her to her next group of admirers.

He found the ringmaster quickly. He'd built up a sort of sixth sense concerning the man; while he couldn't necessarily sense his presence from anywhere on a whim, Danny was always able to locate him when Freakshow called. As if the crystal ball on his cane were a magnetic pole, and Danny a compass.

Freakshow was shaking the hand of a rather depressed-looking woman with short, curly hair, thanking her for her patronage and compliments toward the circus. When he saw Danny approach he gave him a brief nod and quickly ended his conversation.

"Come back any time you need some excitement!" Freakshow encouraged with a little wave of his fingers. He stepped away from the woman and gestured Danny over to his side.

"What?" Danny asked, somewhat petulantly.

Freakshow narrowed his eyes. "Watch your tone," he admonished, his previously pleasant expression now gone. He gripped Danny's shoulder with fingers like a vice and lowered his voice. "You'll be going out tonight," he informed him.

Danny stiffened in surprise. _Are you kidding me? We're in Jump City; you're gonna risk robbery here? _

Aloud, he said, "I thought this wasn't going to be a 'normal' stop."

"Not _that_ kind of going out," Freakshow hissed, irritated that he had to clarify.

Danny's eyes, still crimson for the moment, lit with realization. _Great. Just what I needed. Way to ruin what was almost a good night._

His lips pulled into a hard line. "He's not going to have anything for you," he argued. At that moment a disguised ghost bustled past them, bumping into Danny's shoulder and earning a nasty glare from Freakshow. The ghost squeaked out an apology and scurried away, none to eager to attract the ringmaster's ire.

Danny continued. "It hasn't been long enough. He hasn't had enough time to figure anything out. If you would just let me go to my parents I bet I could find someth—"

"No!"

Danny shut his mouth. _And making him mad is _not_ going to help you get out of this, Fenton. _

"I said you're going. So you are." His grip on Danny's shoulder became painfully tight as he emphasized his next words: "Whether of your own will or mine."

Danny swallowed the sharp retort that immediately jumped to his tongue. _Because heaven __forbid he actually listen to logic when he can just threaten with mind-control, _he thought acidly."Sure, fine," Danny relented, fists clenching at his sides. "I'm going!"

"Good," Freakshow ground out. He released Danny's shoulder. "I wouldn't want to have to force you." He held up his cane for emphasis and Danny winced as its crystal topper sparked to life, sending an uncomfortable wave of power through the bands on his wrists. The energy ran up his arms and zipped immediately to his temples, causing a momentary, drilling pressure to build in his head. Not quite a headache.

"You're a better communicator when you're not completely mindless, I've noticed," Freakshow added, "so this is really better for everyone involved."

He glanced over Danny's shoulder, suddenly giving a start at whatever he saw there. Before Danny could turn to follow his gaze Freakshow's crystal again lit and that pressure in Danny's head sharpened into a flash of pain, red lights bursting in his skull. Instantly Danny's own thoughts became sluggish, churning at a near-standstill before they dissipated like smoke in the wind. He lost any and all desire to turn and see what Freakshow had been looking at. Any and all desire to do _anything_. _  
_

Freakshow spoke again, the words simultaneously filling Danny's head as both sounds and impressions. "Phantom. Be a good little ghost boy and get out of sight."

Danny immediately obeyed.

* * *

Shock. Tension: taut as harp strings.

Anxiety: squirming, worming, painful.

Helplessness: a drowning duckling with waterlogged feathers, desperately, uselessly struggling.

Hope: a tiny ray of sunshine in the blackness.

Cold dread. Fear: sharp, poignant, rotting.

Hope gone. Despair. Sorrow. Hatred.

Shock again, inspiration: a bolt of lightning. Renewed, flickering hope. Shaky anxiety once more. A whiff of flirtatiousness that only poorly hid the frightened uncertainty.

Then she was gone, taking her storm cloud of misplaced emotions with her.

Raven felt it all. The second Angel had seen them, the instant her eyes lit with recognition, the storm had begun, with Raven and her empathic powers as its only witness. Initially she thought Angel was just very excited to meet them, but the mounting anxiousness, the desperation, had built too suddenly and had come seemingly out of nowhere. Something was wrong with that girl.

Raven was about to say as much the second Angel was out of earshot, but Beast Boy spoke before she had the chance.

"Dude. I think I'm in love."

He turned almost unsteadily to the rest of the Titans, a slow, loopy grin stretching from one pointed ear to the other. He practically _oozed_ infatuation, and Raven almost wrinkled her nose. She blocked out Beast Boy's emotions as best she could, not wanting to be distracted.

"There's something strange about that girl," she said before anyone could respond to Beast Boy's comment.

Her teammates turned to her in surprise. "Angel?" Cyborg asked, raising his one human eyebrow. "Considering where she works, isn't that sort of a given?" He lifted a metal hand to make a vague gesture at the scenery around them—the circus freaks running around, the noisy, milling crowd, the giant purple tent.

Raven's eyebrow twitched. "I mean besides that."

"What are you thinking, exactly?" Robin asked, fixing her with a curious look. Something in his face suggested he might be following her train of thought.

"Didn't any of you notice her acting strangely?" Raven explained, looking seriously at each Titan. "Did you see her face when she gave that autograph?"

"And the ringmaster showed up," Robin added, eyes narrowing.

Beast Boy, his shining moment dimmed, shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, forehead creasing in thought. "Well she _did_ seem a little surprised for a second, but then she seemed pretty normal…"

"Flirting with _you_, Beast Boy, is not what I'd consider normal," Raven quipped. He scowled.

"I also agree that perhaps the Angel seemed almost… afraid?" Starfire offered. She fiddled with her own fingers, a thoughtful frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Robin put a gloved hand on her shoulder. "I saw it too, when Freakshow came over. She jumped like she'd been caught doing something wrong. But I didn't really think about it until Raven brought it up…" He turned his attention back to his hooded friend. "I'm guessing you got some strange feelings from her?"

"To say the least," Raven confirmed. "But I'm not sure what any of it means."

"And how do we know it means anything in the first place?" Cyborg said, holding up both hands in a question. "Maybe she's just weird and emotional. Maybe she's a crazy fan, so she was acting strange."

Raven looked down at the ground, thinking. She knew what she'd sensed. She just didn't know _why_. So, perhaps, Cyborg was right. Maybe Angel really was just that weird… But that was so unlikely. Even strange people didn't feel fear that powerful just out of the blue.

_But then again…And yet, I just don't think… Anything's possible I suppose, but… Ugh._

Raven shook her head. "Whatever," she finally said, dismissing the beginnings of her suspicion. "Let's just go home."

"I agree. I do _not_ wanna be left here once all the normal people've already gone," Cyborg said. Robin, after a thoughtful glance into the crowd where Angel had disappeared, nodded his consent.

The Titans proceeded toward the front of the tent, Robin leading as usual and Beast Boy sulkily bringing up the rear. "You guys totally killed my good mood," the changeling grumbled, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the ground as he walked. He let out a little yelp as Cyborg gave him (what was supposed to be) a playful punch to the shoulder that almost knocked him off his feet.

"As if you could have handled that girl anyway," Cyborg grinned.

"Dude, she was _so_ into me," Beast Boy protested. "You saw! She even _winked_ at me! And look—" He lurched forward to grab at the compartment of Robin's belt that held his autographed notebook, ignoring his leader's protests. "She signed her name all girly and loopy, and there's a little heart coming off the end of the L!" He hastily flipped open the notebook to the desired page and held it out as proof, jabbing his finger to the vital little heart.

Cyborg scoffed. "She probably signs her name like that all the time!"

"Well what about giving me her number then, huh?"

They were at the opening of the tent now, stepping out into the crisp night air along with a stream of other circus-goers. "Is that what she wrote upon your arm?" Starfire inquired, pointing to the limb in question.

"Yep," Beast Boy said smugly, puffing out his chest. He pulled up his sleeve, squinting in the darkness to try and make out the script. Giving up, he slid the sleeve back into place. "And you know what? I think I'll ask her out tomorrow night after the show. _Then_ we'll see who can handle a girl!"

This last proclamation earned him another punch from Cyborg, and the two quickly became involved in a scuffle all the way to the T-car, separating only when Raven gave a growl that clearly said she'd had enough. She crossed her arms impatiently as she waited for Cyborg, rolling his eyes and muttering to himself, to turn off the alarms on the car.

Robin secured his helmet before mounting the R-cycle, revving up the engine as his friends settled themselves in their seats. As the T-car's engine came to life with a quiet, yet powerful rumble, Robin flashed the car's occupants a sudden grin through his visor.

"Last one in the ops room is a Mad Mod!" he shouted. He barely had time to take in the surprise on their faces and Cyborg's competitive answering cry before he took off, swinging his bike around in a graceful arc and zipping away.

"Oh no you don't!" Cyborg bellowed, and the T-car was off.

* * *

Raven wasn't sure why she couldn't sleep.

She turned over for the fifth time that night, getting irritated with herself. Finally giving up with a sigh, she threw off her blanket and sat up in bed. A hush seemed to have fallen over the entire Titans' Tower; she sat for a moment in the heavy quiet, her own steady breathing the only thing she could hear. She passed a hand over her face, pressing her fingers to her eyelids and wishing the soreness of her eyes was enough to convince her brain she was ready for sleep.

Something was nagging her. It sat at the back of her mind, flitting away when she tried to look directly at it.

_Fine then._

Sitting up straight, she folded her legs beneath her and touched the tips of her forefingers to her thumbs, closing her eyes and taking a deep, relaxing breath. If she couldn't sleep, at least she could meditate. In the darkness, she patiently allowed her mind time to work out its kinks.

"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos," she whispered, and the unorganized currents of her thoughts became smooth.

_Maybe I'm still curious about why that girl was being so… abnormal. _

She pondered this idea for a moment before dismissing it. She felt rather than knew this was not quite the right answer, though it may have been related to the source of whatever was bothering her.

_Maybe I'm feeling uneasy about the ringmaster himself. _

She hadn't mentioned it to the others (and in fact had been so preoccupied by Angel that she hadn't thought even much of it herself), but looking back, the ringmaster's emotions hadn't fit the situation any better than Angel's. His words had been pleasant enough. His actions too; before leaving he'd patted Angel on the head in a manner that seemed somewhat affectionate. But his emotions, the little she'd picked up through Angel's broiling sea of conflict, had _not_ been so pleasant. He'd seemed smug. Vindictive, perhaps. Angry? Threatened?

Raven took a soothing breath as the echoes of these emotions ran through her, quietly chanting to ease her mind and prevent her powers from slipping through her control. No need to go breaking random objects in the room by getting herself riled up.

_That's still not what's bothering me, though,_ she realized. _But I'm close with Angel and the ringmaster's off-base emotions. Just not there yet… _

She replayed through her mind the Titan's arrival home. The others had been full of energy after their race, tackling each other in their haste to beat one another out of the garage and up to the main ops room. Raven, who certainly would not tolerate being the Mad Mod, had simply allowed a shadow to swallow her up and deposit her within the room, giving her outraged friends a triumphant smirk when they burst through the door.

She allowed herself a small smile at the memory. She'd been allowing herself a lot of those, actually. Ever since she'd defeated her father she'd been much more at ease letting herself be emotive, even if only in small degrees.

_You're straying from your original purpose,_ she reminded herself. _Okay. Back to business._

They'd spent some time in the kitchen, everyone helping themselves to a late snack and chatting for a bit around the counter before heading off to their individual rooms for bed.

_Did we forget something…?_

Raven stiffened. All at once, she knew what was bugging her.

_Beast Boy forgot about Angel writing her number on his arm!_

Raven's eyes flicked open. She didn't know why Angel's number would be important, but she was certain this was the source of her agitation. Now that she'd pinpointed the problem, there was no way she'd be able to go to bed without a follow-up.

Standing, Raven made her way across her room and out, going immediately to Beast Boy's next door. Realizing how strange it was to willingly venture anywhere near the disaster zone the green teen called home, she hesitated outside his door. Steeling herself, she went inside.

"Beast Boy," she called into the darkness. She was afraid of walking too far beyond the doorway; she'd definitely trip over something. Getting no response, she turned and ran her hand along the wall, searching for the light switch. Finding it, she flicked it on.

The instant the room flooded with light, Beast Boy stirred in his bed. He rose up on his elbow, blinking his eyes open before suddenly squeezing them tightly shut and burying his head underneath his pillow with an agonized groan.

"Beast Boy, I need to see your arm," Raven demanded, gingerly picking her way over the wreckage strewn about the floor.

"Fih moh minuh!" he groused through his pillow. She took this to mean "five more minutes" but ignored the plea, grabbing Beast Boy's wrist when she had navigated her way to his bedside. He peeked out at her from under his pillow, bleary-eyed and irritated.

"_Not_ cool," he muttered, glaring. "Wha time is it?"

Again, she ignored him. Tugging his sleeve away to reveal the skin beneath, she turned his arm and stepped to the side to allow the light to shine down on the message there.

The ink had blurred, just a little, from rubbing against Beast Boy's sleeve. But the meaning of the words was clear, and it froze her where she stood.

"_We're prisoners. Please help us. You're our only chance."_


	8. Progress Report

**PHEW. So life has been crazy as crap for me lately. It was NOT supposed to take this long to get this chapter out. The power went out two different times when I was editing it too DX **

**I wasn't originally planning to tell the audience what Danny was up to so soon, but I decided it was probably better this way.**

**What _does_ Freakshow use all that stolen money for?**

* * *

Danny stared. And kept staring.

Unblinking, the large blue eyes of the toddler in front of him stared back. He was dressed in red footy pajamas and sitting in a large burgundy armchair almost big enough to be his bed. His little mouth was slightly agape, his round cheeks lacking any of the healthy rosiness that should have been there. Danny would know; he'd seen enough pictures of himself at that age to know he'd never been so pale and… sickly.

"Cute little fellow, isn't he?" Vlad said conversationally, taking a seat in the plush chair behind his desk. He moved a few papers off to the side and set them in a neat stack, then clasped his hands on his cleared desktop and observed the two boys in front of him with a faint smile.

Danny couldn't even bring himself to point out how absurdly creepy that comment sounded coming out of Vlad's mouth. Especially since he was talking about a younger version of _Danny_.

Danny reached out hesitantly to the little boy, both nauseated and fascinated in a disturbed sort of way. Slowly, the toddler's vacant blue eyes followed his arm down to his hand, uncomprehending. Danny decided to give him a little bit of help, taking his small fingers and giving his fragile hand a little shake.

The boy didn't respond.

Seeing this, Vlad gave a wistful sigh and leaned back in his chair. "Sadly, he has almost no mind to speak of," he said. "He lacks even the most basic instincts. He won't eat, swallow—even when his body needs it. But I do believe I'm very close with this one. His structure is a far cry more stable than Danielle's, at the very least. Aside from the mental deficiency, I'd even say he's perfect."

Danny carefully let go of the toddler's hand, stomach churning. "How old is he supposed to be? Physically, not chronologically, I mean."

"About eighteen months. Just old enough for his little brain to begin a better comprehension of language. That is, if he were more… aware."

The little boy suddenly slumped sideways against the cushion Vlad had propped up beside him, as if he'd forgotten how to sit up properly. Danny couldn't help but wince, pity filling him with such intensity it caused a tangible ache in his chest. The kid was a vegetable. Even for Vlad, this was a whole new level of creepy.

"Why did you make him so young?" Danny asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the little clone. He looked so much like Danny, and yet… he didn't. His raven hair was too dull, his skin too fragile, almost translucent, his huge eyes devoid of any spark. This little creature was just a shell. A pale imprint of the boy Danny used to be.

"I should think that would be obvious," Vlad answered. "You, Danielle—You were both too old for proper molding. Old enough for that teenage rebellion to kick in." He spoke so nonchalantly, as if talking about something as mundane as the weather. Danny vaguely wondered why this surprised him. "I reason that if I start with a much younger child, I can plant the necessary seeds of thought more easily. I can raise him as if he were my own."

Definitely a whole new level of creepy.

"It's sick," Danny said.

"Yes, he does get sick rather frequently—"

"No, I mean what you're doing. It's sick." Danny finally looked away from his clone to Vlad, too disturbed at the complete emptiness in those dull blue eyes to continue looking at them. Vlad just shrugged.

"Hopefully, the next will be an improvement. But I've lost hope for this one.'

"So you're just gonna melt him down."

Another shrug. "What must be done, must be done."

Danny was about to argue that purposely ending the very life Vlad had forced into existence was beyond inhumane, but when he glanced back to that vacant little face he couldn't help but think that this pitiful clone would probably be better off as a pile of ectoplasmic goo. And that was saying something.

"But enough of that," Vlad continued, giving a little wave as if to brush the topic away. "As exciting as it is discussing your failed clones, you didn't come here just for that, hmm?"

Danny reached out for the little clone, standing from where he knelt on the polished wooden floor in front of the armchair. The boy didn't even grab Danny for support, even though he should have feared slipping to the ground when Danny picked him up. Danny took the toddler's seat, settling the little version of himself on his lap. He couldn't just sit there and have it stare at him, and by holding him Danny didn't have to see his eyes. By holding him, Danny could pretend the child was a little more… human.

"No," Danny agreed with a tired sigh. "Freakshow wants a progress report."

Vlad actually rolled his eyes. "Of course. And he thinks that… how long has it been, three weeks? He thinks three weeks is enough for anything to have changed?"

"I tried to tell him it wasn't enough time. It's like he's senile or something."

"Or perhaps just too obsessed for his own good," Vlad scoffed.

Danny raised both eyebrows in disbelief. "Uh, hello?" he said, holding up the toddler on his lap. "Pot? Kettle? Any of this ringing a bell?"

One side Vlad's mouth twisted up into a grim smile. "Point taken," he admitted.

For a moment they sat in tense silence, the ornate clock on Vlad's office wall ticking loudly to remind them of the time. Danny, eager to cut their meeting short, spoke up again. "So, now what? I just go back and tell him you haven't got anywhere, or what?"

"I suppose. Although…"

Danny held back a groan. It was never good when Vlad ominously trailed off.

"Although, what?"

Vlad leaned forward on his desk again, steepling his fingers in thought. "I suppose you might say I've made a _small_ amount of progress. Although it's not really in the direction Freakshow intended."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "Explain."

Vlad complied. "I may have found a… _temporary_ solution to the problem." Something in his eyes gleamed at that, just a touch too malicious for Danny's taste. "It might—and I stress, _might_—be possible to create some sort of injection that could bring about the desired results. But the effects wouldn't be permanent, and each injection after the first would have to be of a greater concentration than the last to reach the same level of change. Almost as if it were a drug. Mind you, this is all just theoretical at this point."

Danny mulled this over, glancing down at the child he held to avoid Vlad's calculating stare.

_That's not gonna make Freakshow happy_, he thought._ Too many ifs. Too many maybes. And what happens when it stops working because of a built up tolerance? If it works the first time at all? It isn't anything like he wanted._

At last, Danny shook his head. "That's not going to be good enough for him."

"I realize that. It _has_ only been three weeks."

"So three weeks is enough time for you to create a clone, but not do what you were hired to?" Danny retorted, nodding down to the Danny-toddler.

Vlad dismissed this with another wave of his hand. "Nonsense. I've been working on that clone since I got your mid-morph DNA sample. Which was five months ago, if you recall."

Danny scowled. _I recall alright. Too well. _"Well now you need more of my DNA, to make yet another clone to satisfy your fruitloopy idea of a perfect life, but you don't have anything to deliver. Freakshow's not gonna give you another sample until he feels like you've actually done something."

"And what if I need a mid-morph sample to further _his_ interests?"

Danny laughed. "Yeah. Right. Because Freakshow can trust you not to use it for yourself."

Vlad, ever the persistent one, kept pushing. "Well perhaps if he gave me _two_ samples at a time, I wouldn't be quite so tempted to abuse his trust."

"Pfft. Yeah. I'll just make that little suggestion. Should go over real well."

"The sarcasm is hardly necessary."

"Just trying to make you realize how full of crap you sound."

Vlad heaved a sigh, standing from his chair and giving Danny a look that might actually have passed as sympathetic if Danny hadn't known him to be incapable of it. "You know, it does pain me to see you like this. Reduced to an errand boy, a petty thief. A circus performer, of all things. You had such potential."

Danny said nothing, just glared, his jaw clenching. Because Vlad was right.

"You realize that if you'd joined me at fourteen, none of this would have happened? That if you'd given up the childish heroics, there would have been nothing to use against you? No way to trap you?"

Again, though his perspective was slightly twisted, Vlad made an undeniably excellent point. Danny's attempts at heroism _had_ been used against him. Danny stubbornly pretended he hadn't noticed the logic. "As if being your puppet would have been any better than being Freakshow's," he said coldly.

"You make it sound as if I wanted to enslave you," Vlad said, feigning hurt as he placed a hand over his heart. "I'm no crazed ringmaster. I wanted to _train_ you. Teach you, guide you. _I_ wanted to help you."

Danny's voice began to rise. "I must have missed the memo between the kidnappings and the death threats," he snapped. "Oh, and let's not forget the time you had me and my mom shoved out of a plane. And how many times have you electrocuted me, by the way? I think I've actually lost count."

Vlad's lip curled into a slight sneer, his eyes flashing dangerously. He was about to rejoin when suddenly the toddler in Danny's lap let out a little moan, his right foot twitching. Danny froze, wondering if he'd somehow hurt him.

"What was that?" he asked, a nervous edge to his voice.

Vlad frowned. "I'm not sure. Perhaps he's reacting to our negative tones?"

Danny turned the child so that he could see his face. His expression remained blank, his eyes empty. But if he was bothered simply by the tones of their voices…

"Are you sure he's completely… not there?" Danny asked.

Vlad came closer, thoughtfully rubbing his chin as he bent to look the little Danny in the face. "This is the first time he's ever made that kind of reaction. I'm not sure what it means. Maybe he's just hungry. Or tired."

"Either way, you said he was lacking basic instincts. But not if he can tell something's wrong. Right?"

"Hmm."

Without warning Vlad reached out and plucked the clone from Danny's grasp, creating a seat out of his arm. For a moment the boy slumped against his shoulder, then slowly, carefully, he sat up on his own. His head turned sluggishly back to Danny. He blinked. His mouth opened a little wider, he took a breath that was a little deeper. Then nothing.

"Interesting," Vlad mused. "For whatever reason, he's actually focusing his attention on you. What little attention he has, anyway."

Danny cautiously stood. He would never directly choose to help Vlad. Not with anything. But the little thing Vlad held was _not_ a crazed up fruitloop. He didn't inherit his creator's sins. And Danny couldn't help but feel attached to the boy—they were, after all, sort of related. Like family, in a freaky, messed-up sort of way.

If this clone wasn't a lost cause, Danny wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing he'd become just another pile of goo.

Battling with a moment of pride, Danny held his arms out. Vlad quirked an eyebrow but didn't comment as he handed the toddler back over to Danny. Little-Danny continued to sit upright in Bigger-Danny's arms, his huge eyes never leaving Danny's face. The fingers of his pale left hand curled, once, twice.

"It's like he recognizes me or something," Danny said.

"So I see."

A pause. "Are you still going to melt him down?"

Vlad didn't answer. He turned abruptly, a ponderous look on his face, and walked back to his desk. Once there, he reached underneath to push a hidden button. Instantly, two of the bookshelves on the wall began to slide apart with a nearly inaudible hiss of sound.

"Tell Freakshow about the possibility I mentioned," he said as an open space behind the bookshelves was revealed. At the back of the space were two white poles, crackling with electricity. "And tell him I want to make a change to our little arrangement."

Danny watched as the two poles began to glow, flashing with a blinding light that faded to reveal a swirling wall of green stretched out between them—a portal into the ghost zone, set up to put Danny right outside the gateway to Freakshow's portable one.

"What kind of change?"

Vlad scrutinized him, his face suddenly closed, hard to read. "He can continue to fund the research I do for his sake. That part stays the same. But as for as my other payment… I may not require another mid-morph sample. I want _you_ to regularly come visit the clone."

"_What?_" Danny sputtered, aghast. "Are you crazy? No way I'm coming here any more than I already have to!"

"Unfortunately for you, that's not your decision to make anymore."

How he _hated_ it when Vlad was right.

Fuming, Danny had to take a deep breath to keep himself from doing something rash. He'd always been too quick to throw a punch—or a ball of flaming ectoplasm—at Vlad when his temper got the better of him. Vlad strode forward and once again relieved Danny of his clone, his face dead serious though a glint in his eye said he understood just how much Danny had to restrain himself.

"I think that will be all then," Vlad said.

_Like he's the one who called the meeting in the first place that smug, arrogant…_

"If you really care so much about having a half-ghost for a son, why don't you just clone yourself?" Danny queried, crossing his arms to keep his fists from punching Vlad's stupid face in.

Vald gave him a look of disbelief. "Because it's not actually the half-ghost part that's the most important," he explained, his tone suggesting that Danny was not all that intelligent. "Your DNA is not just half _ghost._ It's half _Maddie._"

Oh yeah.

Shaking his head without comment, Danny passed Vlad and headed toward the portal.

"Speaking of Maddie, actually," Vlad suddenly said, stopping Danny in his tracks. "I almost forgot to mention. I spoke with your family just yesterday. Your little girlfriend's as well."

Danny froze. He kept his back to Vlad, not wanting the man to see the mixture of emotions that no doubt crossed his face. Surprise. Longing. Sadness. Anger.

"Yes, it seems that yesterday was the exact one year anniversary of your disappearance," Vlad elaborated. "As both friend and mayor, I felt it my duty to check up on our two distraught families. Would you like to know how they are? Hear another progress report, of sorts?"

_Yes_, Danny thought, though he'd never say it out loud. _I would kill to know how my family's doing._

In answer, he turned halfway back to Vlad, just enough to look sideways at him.

Vlad smiled. Danny pictured himself smacking the look right off his face.

"Miss Peterson will be happy to hear that her family is doing well, all things considered," Vlad said. "Her parents seem to have accepted the reality that their daughter will probably never come home. It is, after all, so rare to find a child who's been missing for so long. They've recently bought themselves a purebred bichon puppy, although Mr. Peterson originally wanted something a little more sporty."

Danny could hardly believe his ears. _What a nice way to say they've stopped caring, _Danny thought bitterly, his fist clenching. _Star would definitely _not_ be happy to hear that._

Star frequently made comments, in reference to one thing or another, that lead Danny to understand that her parents pretty had much ignored her all her life. The Petersons lived life as if it were a checklist—Graduate high school, check. Go to college, check. Get job, check. Get married, check. Have child, check. Now wait for retirement.

Vlad went on. "In contrast, the Fentons are _not_ doing as well, I'm afraid," he said. Danny looked down at his feet, not sure he wanted to hear anymore. Yet he couldn't convince himself to just leave.

"Maddie and Jack maintain the slight hope that their son will return to them. They've even come up with a rather fascinating theory as to exactly what happened to him." Purposely dragging it out for Danny's sake, Vlad paused, shifting Danny's clone to his other arm.

"Just spit it out already, would you?" Danny growled, knowing Vlad was searching him for any signs of emotional distress. Danny did his best to keep his face unreadable, but he knew he did a poor job of it.

Vlad grinned, enjoying himself, and continued. "Through a combination of Maddie's brilliance and Jack's idiocy, the two have concluded that it was none other than the infamous Danny Phantom who 'spirited away' their son, and with a very surprising motive."

Stunned, Danny finally snapped his head up to look at Vlad, who kept up his narration almost jovially. "After months of Danny Phantom's rather noticeable absence in Amity Park, the Fentons realized his disappearance coincided with that of their son and his friend, Star Peterson. After making this connection, they put two and two together and began to notice an uncanny number of similarities between their son and the ghost in question. The apparent age, the physical similarities, even the names.

"From these observations, they theorized that some sort of connection existed between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom. That perhaps the ghost had deliberately mimicked their son's likeness. That perhaps the ghost had even been _haunting_ their own son!"

Danny's head spun. Was Vlad just making this all up? Why would he do that? He couldn't be making it up. His parents actually thought he'd kidnapped… himself? How could they be so close to the truth, and yet be off by a mile?

Closing his eyes, Danny ran a hand through his hair and took a calming breath.

"It would explain the changes in their son, they realized," Vlad went on. "The falling grade point average, the often haggard appearance, as if he'd been losing sleep. The attitude changes. It all made so much sense once they realized that young Danny's slump coincided with the appearance of the ghost boy.

"It was only logical, therefore, to begin considering the possibility that Danny Fenton was actually Danny Phantom's ghostly preoccupation—his obsession, his anchor to the mortal plane. And of course, that would explain why the ghost finally stole the Fenton child away."

Danny couldn't take much more of this. _As if they needed another reason to hate Phantom. Unbelievable._

He was about to leave in an angry huff when he remembered something and hesitated. "And Jazz?" he asked.

"Honestly I couldn't say," Vlad replied. "I haven't seen her in quite some time. I assume she's still busy with her studies. According to Maddie, she hasn't visited home since the spring."

_Figures. The one person who could defend me against their crazy accusations isn't there._ Knowing it was selfish and a little immature, Danny tried not to feel hurt that his older sister had continued with her life at college instead of coming home to help their parents after he'd left.

"And before you ask," Vlad said, the mock geniality falling from his expression, "I haven't seen or spoken with your ridiculous friends since they barged into my office demanding to know where you were several months ago."

At this, Danny actually had to hide a little smile. _Good old Sam and Tucker_, he thought, almost fondly remembering the day Vlad had told him about their unexpected interrogation. At the time, Vlad honestly had no idea what had become of Danny, and informed Sam and Tucker accordingly. Too bad for Danny they didn't try and get the information out of him later.

"Well then. I do believe that brings us all up to date," Vlad said, looking down at the child he held and moving a dark lock of hair out of his eye. "I'll spare you the details of your mother's slow decline and her frequent nightmares about the state of your well-being and let you on your merry way."

_He just can't let me have a moment, can he?_

With a last, vicious glare at the man who used to be his arch-enemy, Danny leapt into the air and shot toward the open portal.

"Don't forget to tell Freakshow about you coming to help the clone!" Vlad called loudly after him, the words just barely making it to Danny before he vanished into the ghost zone.

He flew the short distance to Freakshow's portal at top speed, as if hoping to expend his anger along with his energy.

_I don't know who I hate more_, he thought as the green and purple around him passed in a speeding blur. _Freakshow for making me do this, or Vlad. For being such a freaking ass._

All things considered, it was probably the latter.

* * *

**GASP! Danny! You can't swear, you're TV-Y7!**

**Sometimes, there's just no other word for it. **


	9. Message Received

**It's been brought to my attention that the summary for this story doesn't exactly catch the eye. Originally, I wanted the summary to be short and vague because I didn't want readers to come into the story with any preconceived notions. I always think it's more fun when you have no idea what to expect from a story.**

**But perhaps that wasn't such a good idea?**

**So I guess I'm just wondering what any current readers think about me changing the summary. Would you have been more willing to read this if the summary had been better? Do you like the vagueness, or do I need to do a better job advertising? Any opinions on that are welcome.**

**Anyway. Felt like we needed un poquito de acción, so here it is.**

* * *

_Typical. Just typical._

A torrent of ice-cold soda hosed her in the face, momentarily choking her.

_First I can't sleep_.

She held her hands out in front of her defensively, a black shield springing up between them to block the carbonated onslaught. The force of the stream as it pushed against her barrier caused her feet to slide back several inches along the floor.

_Then I discover a possible hostage situation_.

"Azarath metrion zinthos!"

The evil soda machine rose swiftly into the air, surrounded by a veil of black and helpless against her telekinesis. Though it still continued to rain down its beverage of terror.

_But before I can actually tell anybody, the alarms go off because some idiot with a reality-altering remote decided to have a completely pointless temper tantrum!_

With a shout, Raven hurled the living soda machine into the wall. A wave of liquid burst outward on impact, filling the room with a fine, sticky mist that immediately clung to every previously dry spot on her body.

_And now I have to wash this crap out of my hair._

"Raven, watch out!"

At Cyborg's warning cry, Raven spun around just in time to throw up a protective wall of black as a scalding spray of melted butter shot toward her. She threw the wall forward so that it slammed into the rampaging popcorn maker, sending it crashing back into the concession stand from whence it came.

At that moment Robin leapt into her view, furiously battling off a robotic samurai that had emerged from one of the many movie posters lining the walls.

Robin jumped to the side as the samurai swung his ridiculously huge katana, then flipped into a deft back handspring when the samurai charged. The katana slammed harmlessly into the ground where Robin had just stood, Robin landing in a crouch.

The samurai raised his katana once more; Robin whipped out a disc in each hand, throwing both into his opponent's face and rolling quickly away and onto his feet. The discs exploded on contact, taking the samurai's entire robotic head with them.

"Robin, I need to talk to—"

She was interrupted by Robin's battle cry as he turned to face a second enraged samurai. He pulled out his bo staff and leapt into combat, knocking away the first swing of the samurai's blade.

"Talk later!"

Clenching her teeth in frustration, Raven took off into the air to avoid the dueling pair.

Above her, Starfire was busy hurling starbolts at the multitude of sparkling fairies buzzing near the ceiling, all of whom had escaped from the poster of the recently released "Pretty Pixies: the Sequel!" They taunted her with cute squeaky voices and the tinkling of bells, zipping in to pull at her hair, pinch her, bite her, throw magic dust in her eyes.

Raven flew up to meet the swarm, her eyes glowing white as she raised both arms. Two clawed hands made entirely of shadow snatched handfuls of the alarmed pixies, trapping them in a sea of black.

"Much thanks!" Starfire called, her eyes shooting twin beams of green as she spun to zap a fleeing gaggle of fairies.

"NO WAY AM I GETTING MUNCHED ON BY EVIL CANDY _AGAIN!_"

On the ground, Cyborg let out a furious bellow and fired his sonic canon, blasting the horde of animated candy crawling out of the shattered glass counter of the concession stand. Unfortunately for him, the licorice made it out alive, slithering lightning-fast along the ground to wrap around his ankles and begin crawling up his body.

Reforming the clawed hands into a confining ball around the pixies, Raven left the rest to Starfire and flew down to Cyborg, attempting to grab the licorice strands with her telekinetic powers. But before her mind could even touch them, something rammed into her from behind.

She crashed right into Cyborg, the two of them thrown hard to the ground, the licorice strands now twining themselves around her wrists and curling up her arms.

"Azarath metrion _zinthos!_" she cried, and the licorice blasted off her body in a surge of black and white.

She pushed herself to her feet and whipped around to face whatever had hit her. Before her stood a towering giant of a girl wearing boxing gloves, grinning as she tilted her head to the side with an audible _crack._

"Little girls oughta stay inside with their mommas!" taunted the hulking girl, raising her fists once more.

Raven's eyes flared with light, anger rolling off of her in waves.

"Then you'd better call Mommy!"

She threw out both hands and the girl boxer was lifted right into the air, a stream of black energy circling her thick torso and hurling her several feet back into the wall with enough force to topple a bus. She slid to the ground with a groan, her eyes rolling back into her head as she went completely limp.

Raven turned back to Cyborg, who was once again on his feet. "Where's Control Freak?" she demanded.

"BB chased him into one of the theaters."

Together they ran toward the hall of theaters, Raven reaching out with her senses to locate the fifth member of their team, as well as the moron who'd caused all the trouble.

"Theater four!" she announced.

Cyborg ran forward, punching in the metal door that stood in their way, Raven right on his heels.

Immediately as they burst into the room, an enormous green bear came hurtling toward them through the air, freezing Raven and Cyborg in their tracks.

Just in time to avoid a head-on collision, Beast Boy shifted into a small red-tailed hawk, screeching as he flapped wildly to correct himself. He swooped away from his teammates, smoothly transitioning into a tiger and launching himself back at the group of white-skinned, many-eyed aliens who were scattered amongst the rows of seats.

Raven leapt into the air as Cyborg fired his sonic canon. She zoomed toward the very front of the theater, where a large, ugly man with red hair and bad sideburns was laughing the most annoyingly familiar laugh.

"Foolish Titan!" Control Freak cried, raising his new and improved remote. With a single click Raven suddenly found herself unable to levitate. She gasped as gravity seized her, sending her tumbling through the air with naught to catch her but the hard floor.

She hit the ground with a thud, skidding and rolling to painful stop just below the giant movie screen. Something in her side let out an ominous crack and she yelped, curling in on herself as a flare of pain shot through her torso.

"If I had to miss the midnight premier of Return to the Planet Flazz, then I'm having my own show!" Control Freak bellowed, "and there's nothing you can do to—"

"I don't have time for this!" Raven snapped, rising onto her elbow. She lifted one hand, encased in a sphere of black, and Control Freak's remote leapt from his grasp as if electrocuted.

"YEOWCH! No! My remote!"

Raven's hand clenched into a fist, and Control Freak's remote shattered into so many bits of plastic.

Mouth gaping, Control Freak watched as the pieces of his remote fell to the ground. The sounds of battle ceased as the aliens, and no doubt the rest of the horrors out in the main lobby, vanished.

Control Freak fell to his chubby knees, shoulders slumping in defeat as he picked up the sad remains of his latest weapon. "Now I missed the premier _and_ I lost a remote!" he wailed.

Raven glared at him, gritting her teeth as she rose to her feet, pressing a hand against her aching ribs. Soft light filled her palm as she began to heal whatever damage had been caused by her fall.

"Well that's what you get for dragging us out here in the middle of the night!" came Beast Boy's indignant retort. He marched up to Control Freak, poking him squarely in the middle of the forehead. "Don't you people understand the concept of _beauty sleep?_"

"You were already awake," Raven reminded him.

Beast Boy rounded on her. "Yeah, because of _you!_"

"Mind telling me again what you were doing in Beast Boy's room in the middle of the night?" Cyborg asked as he came up beside them.

Raven narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as the ache in her side faded. "I'm going to ignore whatever that might be insinuating. Remember how that girl, Angel, wrote something on his arm?"

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't—"

"Did you get Control Freak?" interrupted the voice of their fearless leader as he burst into the theater. Starfire followed in the air, surveying the damage to the room from above and rubbing at the numerous pixie bites along her arms.

"Yeah, we got 'im," Cyborg called back, nudging their overweight enemy with his foot. Control Freak swiped at the metal appendage, sticking out his tongue in defiance.

Removing his foot, Cyborg abruptly gave a huge, jaw-cracking yawn, stretching his arms high above his head. "Now let's hurry and ditch him so I can get some shut-eye!"

"Agreed," Robin said as he and Starfire joined the group surrounding the enemy. "After we drop him off at the prison we can head home and sleep."

Raven briefly closed her eyes and sighed. "Not quite."

Robin, Cyborg, and Starfire all stared at her with equal expressions of disbelief.

"But we were so rudely awakened in the middle of the night by the ringing of the alarm," Starfire protested, "and we are in much need of rest!"

"I realize that. But we may have an actual problem on our hands, besides crazed couch potatoes."

"Hey!" Control Freak whined, "I'm not just a—"

Raven shot him a glare, and he promptly went silent. "If the alarm hadn't gone off, then _I_ would have woken everyone up," Raven continued. She turned to the green boy next to her. "Beast Boy. Your arm."

Obligingly, his expression uncharacteristically serious, Beast Boy held up his arm and pulled away his sleeve.

Then his mouth dropped open in an expression of horror.

"Aw, no! Changing shape must have stretched it out too much!" he cried.

"_What?_" Raven seized him by the wrist and to her dismay saw nothing but a vague smudge where Angel's plea for help had once been. Her shock gave way to anger. "This is all _your_ fault!" she growled, rounding on Control Freak.

Control Freak flinched as Robin stepped forward and raised a placating hand. "What exactly is all his fault?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes.

Raven glanced from him down to their beaten enemy, taking a deep breath to calm herself. _Could this night get any more frustrating?_

"Let's get rid of him. Then I'll explain."

* * *

Robin paced before his team. His usually styled hair was mussed, his eyes dry and sore behind his mask, his body begging for a mattress and a pillow. Yet he couldn't go back to bed.

"So let me get this straight," Cyborg spoke from the ops room couch. The others, also seated on the couch, turned to take in his thoughtful, if somewhat skeptical, frown. "Some random girl, who is obviously a Titans fan, writes on Beast Boy's _arm_ that she's in some kind of trouble, and we're supposed to take it seriously?"

"It's not just what she wrote," Raven argued. "It's the way she felt when she wrote it."

"But how can we be sure she's not just riling herself up because she's just that desperate to believe in her own little prank?"

"_Because_," Raven emphasized, "I _know_ what I felt. What she felt, and it was real. I was willing to put it aside at the time because it didn't make any sense, but now that I look back I don't know what I was thinking. She was obviously in trouble."

Robin remained silent as he assessed their words, then resumed pacing as he went over the facts.

Fact one: Raven was not the type to believe something without good reason.

Fact two: Although Robin himself didn't have Raven's powers of empathy, he _had_ seen some obvious signs of something amiss with Angel—Her jumpiness at the ringmaster's approach, the false sincerity in her smile when she handed Beast Boy his autograph. Even Starfire had noticed.

Fact three: If the Titans investigated and the plea for help turned out to be a bad hoax, the worst that could happen is they'd waste a few hours of time.

Fact four: If the Titans ignored Angel's plea and it turned out she really was in danger, Robin wouldn't be able to live with himself.

Robin finally stopped pacing. Immediately, his four teammates focused on him.

"We have no choice but to look into it," he announced. Raven leaned back against the couch in relief as he continued. "Raven. You and I are going to tomorrow night's performance—"

"Technically, I think you mean _tonight's_ performance," Beast Boy corrected. Raven shot him a look and he shrugged. "Hey, it's _way_ after midnight," he justified.

Absentmindedly brushing back his messy hair, Robin pressed on. "Fine then. Raven and I will attend _tonight's_ performance. But we're going in disguise. If she had to resort to writing on Beast Boy's arm, Angel obviously felt like she couldn't say anything out loud. If she's telling the truth, then whoever is keeping her 'prisoner' doesn't want her asking for help. Especially from the Teen Titans, I'd assume."

They were all quiet for a moment, processing this new plan.

"Raven," Starfire began hesitantly, brow furrowing in thought. "Did you not say that the message used the words 'we' and 'us?'"

Everyone stilled.

Finally, Cyborg broke the silence. "Then I guess our next question is… who is 'us?'"

* * *

**A demonstration of the healing power Raven used on herself can be seen in the episode "Final Exam," where she heals Beast Boy's leg. That particular power only works on minor injuries, however. Her other healing capabilities include being able to absorb the pain of others into her own body to induce rapid healing and healing her own serious injuries by entering into a trance, like she did in "The Beast Within."**


	10. Sleep Deprived

**Well, we know what Danny did after the circus, and we know what the Titans did. What did Star do after she ran off? It's been a long night for our crew.**

**More Titan/DP interaction next chapter. **

* * *

When Danny poked his head through the wall of the train car—intangible, of course—he was surprised to find that the lamp was still on. Phasing the rest of his body through the wall, Danny dropped silently to the ground and transformed back into his human self.

With Danny now bound by the limits of mortality, a wave of fatigue settled heavily on his shoulders. He visibly sagged, letting out a tired sigh before walking quietly to his bed. Which, really, was only a "bed" in a vague sense.

While traveling, he and Star rode in one of the few passenger cars on the train. During their week-long stops, however, they shared a shabby little car set up as a bedroom. Star got her own rickety cot, Danny a lumpy mattress on the floor, since he was bigger and needed the extra room. He got the right side of the dresser, she got the left, which was fine by Danny because one of her drawers was always getting stuck, even if one of his had a hole in it. Taking up about a third of the already limited space was the tiniest, most pitiful bathroom he'd ever seen.

Freakshow had, of course, been _so_ generous making allowances for their "human" needs.

But, despite the fact that all he had was a mattress on the floor, Danny wanted nothing more than to collapse onto that mattress and go out like a light. His talk with Vlad had been hugely frustrating, his report to Freakshow afterward equally so. Especially since the ringmaster had trouble understanding the concept "don't shoot the messenger" when he was given bad news, and Danny had to endure his irrational anger at Vlad's lack of progress. An hour of listening to that guy's raving would make anyone exhausted.

He'd already changed out of costume before heading out to Vlad's, so he had no qualms about hitting the sack as he was, except for one little problem.

Star had apparently been waiting up for him; she was fast asleep on _his_ mattress, with _his_ blanket and pillow. And, okay, maybe it was kind of a little bit adorable, but Danny _really_ needed some sleep.

Kneeling down beside the mattress, Danny poked her in the shoulder. "Star," he whispered, "Wake up." For good measure he gently tugged on a lock of her fair hair, still damp from the shower she'd taken to wash off all her white makeup.

Her eyes opened slowly at first, and then all at once she sat bolt upright, pushing slightly-wavy hair from her face with both hands.

"You!" she accused, eyebrows slanting downward in irritation. "I waited for you _forever!_"

Danny yawned, switching position so that he sat beside her on the mattress. "Well I'm back now, same as always. So now you can give me back my bed and I can go to sleep."

"This is _not_ the same as always," she argued, crossing her arms and giving him a stubborn look.

_I'm too tired for this_, Danny thought. Nevertheless, he had to ask. "Why isn't it the same as always?"

Her expression flickered momentarily to one of anxiousness. Instead of answering, she glanced around quickly. She leaned over to the opposite side of the mattress and grabbed something off the floor—their notebook.

They used the notebook to communicate whenever they didn't want Freakshow eavesdropping on their conversations. Not that they had many secrets to keep from him anymore; they'd run out of ideas for escape after the first month.

But Danny didn't want to talk—or write, for that matter. He wanted to _sleep._ So when Star opened up the notebook and picked up the pen that rested on the inside, Danny snatched the pen right out of her fingers.

"_Can't this wait till morning? I'm exhausted and it's the middle of the night. I just want to sleep,"_ he wrote on the open page.

Star quickly wrote back. "_It __is__ morning. And you don't think I'm tired? I think I got like three hours of sleep!"_

"_All the more reason this can wait."_

With that, he plucked the notebook from her grasp and threw it across the floor to the other corner of the room by her cot, along with the pen. Ignoring Star's cry of outrage, he blocked her when she tried to rise and retrieve the stolen items, placing both hands on her shoulders to hold her in place.

"Seriously, Star, whatever it is can wait until tomorrow. Or later today. Whatever. We have to do another show, remember? We _both_ need sleep."

She stared at him, eyes full of something strange and tense that he couldn't identify, lips pulled into a slight pout. And she looked sleepy and grumpy and her hair was nowhere near the styled perfection she'd always kept it in back at Casper High, but by some bizarre logic that just made her all the more endearing.

Danny had been trying, lately, to avoid a lot of familiar contact with Star, even though the longer he refrained the more preoccupied he became with the urge to touch her. Although she'd never voiced a complaint, he'd begun to notice that she got kind of skittish if he got _too_ close, and he didn't want to make things awkward between them.

But right then he reasoned with himself that he was tired, so he wasn't thinking as clearly. He reached out and touched her cheek, lightly tracing the shadow under her eye with his thumb. "We're both tired. Let's just go to sleep," he coaxed.

Maybe Star wasn't thinking as clearly either, because she closed her eyes and leaned just slightly into his touch, surprising him.

She sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Hey, Danny?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

She reached up and held his hand in place for a moment, leaving her eyes closed. "I know I've said this before but… I'm really sorry."

He moved his hand to lift her chin, giving her an encouraging smile. "I know I've said this before, but it's not your fault."

She gave a half-hearted smile in return. "Yeah. You keep saying that."

"We both repeat a lot of things."

"Mm-hm."

Danny realized he'd been leaning toward her and pulled away, dropping his hand. He cleared his throat.

"So. Bed then."

"You mean cot," she corrected, rubbing her eye.

"Yeah. Off to cot with you. I'm sleepy."

Star crossed her arms, making no move to leave. "Well maybe I feel like punishing you for keeping me waiting and then refusing to talk to me. You'll just have to sleep on the floor." With that she lay down once again, smugly wrapping his blanket around herself and nestling her head into his pillow.

"Fine then. I'll just steal your bed right back."

"_Cot_," she reminded him.

"Still gonna steal it." He made as if to stand when she rose up on her elbow and grabbed his forearm, fixing him with a sharp glare.

"Don't even think about it, Fenton."

"Well I'm _not_ sleeping on the floor, so your options are to give me my bed back or take your own."

"Cot!"

"Whatever!"

"But my spot is going to be cold and this one is already warm," she whined.

"Fine—here."

Surprising even himself, Danny kicked off his shoes and lay right down next to her, nudging her over with an elbow. He was met with a moment of silence while he waited for his common sense to kick back in and Star to freak out. A few seconds ticked by before he spoke. "Happy now?" he asked.

He didn't dare turn his head to look at her face, but he supposed that when she adjusted the blanket to throw it over him as well that was answer enough.

"It'll do," she muttered. She sounded embarrassed, but nothing worse. "But I don't think this thing was meant for two people. It's not exactly king-sized."

"It's pretty spacious for a crappy mattress."

"Not spacious enough."

Encouraged that she hadn't immediately freaked and bolted, Danny pressed his luck. "Well I guess we'll just have to squish together then."

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Um. I guess." But neither of them moved.

"Am I freaking you out?" Danny asked.

"I… I don't know. No more than I'm freaking myself out, I think?"

"That's… good?"

"I don't know."

Danny suddenly remembered something. "Uh, Star? Who's going to turn off the lamp?"

She groaned. Throwing her half of the blanket away, she climbed over him and crawled over to the dresser on which the lamp sat, reaching up and twisting the little knob till it clicked and plunged the car into darkness. Danny turned onto his side, facing away from the wall and the spot where Star had just occupied, and was just wondering if she would go back to her own cot after all when he felt her once again clamber over him and plop back down beside him.

"No funny business, Fenton," she warned.

"No, no, of course not. Perfect gentleman and all that."

"Uh-huh."

He waited a few moments in the quiet as she readjusted the blanket, thinking to himself that when they woke up things were going to get extremely awkward. But maybe, in the moment, he didn't really care.

"So. Good night, I guess?"

"The sun's gonna come up in a few hours."

"Star. Just say good night."

"Good night, Danny."

* * *

Star listened as Danny's breathing gradually slowed, grew soft and even. The sound failed to soothe her as it usually did.

She'd wanted to tell him about the Teen Titans right away, about her moment of brilliance with Beast Boy (which, frankly, had surprised even her). But she _could_ tell him later, and he was right—they did need sleep.

Especially Danny.

In the darkness, she frowned. Lying on her back, she turned her head in his direction, unable to make out even a faint outline of him. On an impulse she reached out, just enough to touch his back with her fingers and make sure he was still there.

_Of course he's still there_, she chastised herself. _You can hear him, can't you? He didn't just up and leave._

_But sometimes_, said the voice of doubt,_ he does just up and leave. Like earlier tonight. _

Where had Danny been, those hours she had waited up for him?

Star had no idea. Danny frequently disappeared at night, never giving any warning. He refused to tell her anything about his ventures. Refused to talk about them at all.

Once, months ago, he hadn't come back for three whole days. And when he'd finally trudged into the car around midnight the third night, he'd been pale and disturbingly weak, dark circles under his eyes and a hateful expression on his face.

But no matter how hard she pressed, he wouldn't tell her where he went, or why.

Star had her own theory.

She knew he wasn't out stealing things during his random disappearances. He never brought back any new haul and the other ghosts all claimed they hadn't been out with him. And Freakshow _never_ sent him on a solo robbery. Danny was too important, too valuable, too hard to reclaim if somehow lost; Freakshow would send Star out before letting Danny go alone. He depended on them to protect each other.

She also knew that ever since Freakshow had found out Danny was only half-ghost, he'd been intrigued by the idea. And she knew, from conversations overheard between some of the ghosts, that since she and Danny had joined the crew Freakshow had been… _experimenting_.

She didn't, however, know what these experiments entailed. She had no idea if they were harmless, conducted purely out of curiosity's sake, or if they were intended for some evil purpose. Probably the latter. She didn't know if the experiments were tests of the limits of Danny's abilities or studies of how those abilities worked. She didn't know if they were painless or pain_ful_.

And that, the question of pain or no pain, often kept her up at night.

She didn't know for sure if these disappearances coincided with Freakshow's experiments. But the possibility was enough to make her ache with worry. Which, ironically, was exactly what Danny had been trying to avoid by keeping her out of the loop.

For a moment she was tempted to move closer to Danny's sleeping form simply out of a desire for comfort, but then she froze, giving herself a mental shake and a sharp reprimand.

_It was a bad idea sleeping here at all. Don't make it worse. You can't afford to do stuff like this. You're just confusing him and yourself, stupid! You've already ruined his life, don't ruin his only relationship by being… even more stupid!_

Star turned onto her side so that her back was to Danny, telling herself that her sudden twinge of regret was for the ruining his life part, not the part where she refused to sleep closer to him.

_Maybe, if we ever get out of here, things can be different_, came the voice of vain hope.

She curled in on herself and gave a soft sigh._ Or maybe not. Would we still be close if we ever left this circus? I don't think I could go back to life just like nothing happened, but what about Danny? He's too good a person for me. The only reason he would ever have feelings for me is because we're stuck with each other. When is he going to realize that this is all really my fault?_

Vain hope felt the need to speak up again. _Maybe he's never going to realize it. Because he _is_ just that good a person. The kind of person who just doesn't blame other people. Maybe I've saved him by getting a message to the Teen Titans. Maybe they'll rescue us and then… and then…_

_And then what?_ _We'll live happily ever after? And what if the Titans _don't_ rescue us? What if they don't even take me seriously?_

Star turned over onto her other side, forcing herself to stop asking herself these ridiculous, painful questions. Danny would kill her if she slipped up during the finale just because she hadn't gotten enough sleep.

_It all comes down to this_, she reminded herself. _You got Danny into this. And if all else fails, then you're going to make sure that he can at least rely on you from here on out. You're going to do whatever it takes to do everything you can for him._

Star abruptly sat up. Feeling determined, she got onto her knees and clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut even though the darkness made it unnecessary, and said another prayer.

_Okay, whoever is up there. I said I'd do whatever it takes, and I got an answer last time, so here goes again. Please, let the Titans believe me. Let my message be enough. I'll do anything to make up for what I did. Just look at me, I never used to pray, but here I am, and this is my second time! Please, please,_ please_, help us find a way to be free._ _I'll do anything. I mean it._

_Anything._

* * *

**The "Ave" in "Say an Ave" applies to this story in multiple ways, all of which will hopefully become clear by the end of the story. Since this is the second time prayer has come up, I feel I can clarify that one of "Ave's" meanings for this story is, in fact, prayer. "Ave Maria" or "Hail Mary" is a traditional Catholic prayer. Therefore one can surmise that to "say an Ave" means to say the Ave Maria prayer, or, in more general terms, to say any prayer. **

**While I'm not Catholic, I will be referring to prayer later on in the story. I apologize if the religious tone annoys anyone. I'm not trying to preach to anybody. **

**Star wants to redeem herself, but she's reached the end of her rope and prayer is where she's turned. Whether you believe her prayers are actually being answered or that she's just using them to help her cope emotionally is up to the each reader's interpretation. Like in real life, it's your judgment call. **


	11. Turning Point

**First: I have no legitimate excuse for why this update took so long. Suffice it to say I wrote about a million different versions of this chapter before I found one that suited me. Feel free to pelt me with metaphorical rotten vegetables.**

**Second: A big thank-you to everyone who's followed, faved, or reviewed. Seriously, it makes my day.**

**Third: I hope this story isn't moving too slowly, but this chapter didn't move as far ahead as I'd originally intended. Again, if you find yourself disappointed, don't hesitate to begin the rotten veggie storm.**

**Fourth: Yes, according to me there is a ghost in Circus Gothica named Maurice who is always trying to get people to call him "The Macabre Robber." Because I can.**

* * *

"Beast Boy. I said _no_."

Following closely behind Robin as they walked down the hall, Beast Boy threw his hands into the air in protest. "But she wrote it on _my_ arm!" he argued. "If anybody should get to go, it should be—"

Abruptly, Robin halted in his tracks. Beast Boy yelped, barely avoiding running right into him by reeling back on his heels and wildly flailing his arms to try and maintain his balance. Robin quickly turned and snagged him by the collar, successfully preventing him from falling back flat on his butt.

He raised an eyebrow and Beast Boy gave a weak smile.

"Uh… thanks."

Robin sighed, releasing him and crossing his arms. "This is exactly why you're not coming," he said. "Look, I know you like this girl and you want to help, but we're less likely to be caught snooping around if it's just me and Raven. We need to blend in. We need stealth. We need cool heads. No offense, but sometimes you're just… too excitable."

"_What?_" Beast Boy cried, indignant. He drew himself up to his full height. "Come on! I can have a cool head! I can be stealthy! I can change into something so small no one would even see me! What's stealthier than that?"

Without missing a beat, Robin replied, "A girl who can literally become part of the shadows and a guy who learned from the best."

"But a third pair of eyes could help to—"

"I'm not arguing about this anymore," Robin cut him off, turning and resuming his walk toward the kitchen for lunch. "Two people are less likely to be caught than three. Raven and I are the only ones who aren't green, orange, or half-metal. We're the best at blending and not being seen. It's as simple as that."

Beast Boy's fists clenched at his sides, but he kept his mouth shut. There was no changing Robin's mind once he'd made it up. His stubbornness knew no bounds.

_But I can be stubborn too,_ Beast Boy silently vowed. He spun on his heel and marched back to his room, wheels turning furiously in his head.

_I'll show _him_ stealth._

* * *

Too careless. She'd been too careless.

"_You! I waited for you _forever!_"_

"_This is _not_ the same as always."_

"_Have you seen Danny? He was supposed to talk to me this morning."_

"_Maurice, is Danny back yet? Okay, fine, 'Macabre Robber,' is Danny back yet?"_

"_What is he doing that made him leave before I even woke up?"_

Star listened as her own words, playing back to her from computer speakers, tied a rope around her neck. She stood in Freakshow's "monitor room," which was, of course, just another car of the train with computers in it. Here were the screens hooked up to cameras set up all around Circus Gothica, one of them permanently fixed on the outside of hers and Danny's car. Here was the computer that linked to the device around her wrist. Here was her every word recorded and sent to a back-up server somewhere far out of reach, her every conversation filtered through a scanner, every suspicious phrase pinpointed and brought to Freakshow's attention.

Here, she was caught.

Freakshow turned from the computer as the last voice clip ended. He threw something down at her feet—hers and Danny's notebook.

"I can see you didn't actually 'discuss' anything with our ghost boy here," Freakshow said conversationally, gesturing to Danny with the same hand that had thrown the notebook.

Star shot a sideways glance at said ghost boy floating beside her, but his burning red eyes were blank and emotionless. At the moment he was nothing more than a mindless lackey; he would give her no help.

"Still, what do we make of today's insistent desire to speak with him? What important topic could you possibly have to discuss?" Freakshow asked, thoughtfully tapping his chin. "What is so vital it kept you up waiting, so different you argued in favor of discussing it, so pressing that you have been waiting for him all day?"

Just her luck, her mind went blank.

_Lie. Excuse. Explanation. Something. Anything. Star, think!_

A half-formed story about wanting Danny to be more careful with their groceries died on her lips when she looked up to meet Freakshow's eyes. That wouldn't cut it. They both knew it.

He gave her a smile of mock understanding. His eyes were sharp. They were angry.

Her hesitation had given away her guilt; even if she came up with the perfect lie right on the spot, nothing could take back that incriminating pause.

"Would this have anything to do," Freakshow said slowly, "with the unique group of teenagers who graced our humble circus with their presence yesterday?"

_Why couldn't he have forgotten about them? Why couldn't he just be satisfied making me write that stupid autograph instead of a real message?_

"It just seems oddly coincidental," he continued, beginning to walk in a slow, contemplative circle, "that you should meet them, and then suddenly, that night, have something important to talk about with Phantom. Something important enough that you wouldn't just say it aloud the moment he returned to you."

True. All true. He had a point.

_I was careless. I was stupid. I shouldn't have said _anything_, not even just the little bit I _did _say. I should have been more careful about keeping an eye out for him today, I should have kept my stupid mouth shut for once in my stupid life—_

"Tell me, what would your 'autograph' for the Teen Titan have said if I hadn't shown up at just the right moment last night? Speak up, Angel; I want an answer. The truth. Let's not pretend you wouldn't have tried to pull something."

_No, you're right. We don't pretend for each other. Just for everybody else._

She stared down at her feet and spoke as evenly as possible. "Fine. I was about to ask them for help. I would have told them I was in trouble and that I needed them to save me. You caught me."

_He doesn't know about writing on Beast Boy's arm. He doesn't know. Right? He couldn't know. He didn't see. He wasn't there. That part is still my secret. I didn't have a chance to write it down for Danny, so Freakshow has no way of knowing. He couldn't know. He doesn't. Just be calm. I'm still safe._

"And what were you planning to tell Phantom?"

She closed her eyes. Now she had to lie; she couldn't very well admit that she _had_ gotten a message to the Titans. But she was a good actress. From Freakshow's point of view, she had nothing to share with Danny other than the simple fact that the Titans had been there. All Freakshow knew was that she'd seen them. Nothing more.

"I…" She hesitated for the desired effect, throwing a brief glance upward; it would sound suspicious if she spoke too quickly. At the flash of impatience in Freakshow's eyes she continued as if intimidated. "I didn't tell Danny anything," she said in a rush. "You saw yourself. I didn't write anything down. Danny doesn't even know they were here."

"That wasn't what I asked. I _asked_, what would you have told him?"

"Just that… they came. That I saw them."

"And why would he need to know that?"

Star clenched her teeth in frustration. He already knew the answers to his own questions; why did he insist on making her admit what they both knew? She exhaled sharply.

"Because they might have come back, and if they did… And even if they didn't, we might have been able to figure out some way…" She trailed off, looking again at Danny, not daring to see Freakshow's reaction. She wasn't giving him the worst of it—the truth—but it was still enough to set off Freakshow's temper.

"Some way to contact them?" he finished for her. "Beg them for help?" He didn't sound even pretend-friendly anymore.

Star swallowed. That, combined with another silence, was enough to confirm his accusation.

Freakshow slammed the end of his cane against the floor, making her flinch. "I thought we had tired of the escape attempts," he growled. "I thought you'd finally gotten it through that little blond head that the _plotting_ was getting you nowhere."

"But I didn't actually 'plot' anyth—"

"Not _yet_," he snapped, voice rising. "The fact of the matter is this—You and Phantom _would_ have tried to come up with some harebrained scheme. I allowed you to keep your silly little notebook, I allowed you to get away with comments you _should_ have been punished for—" He held up a hand to stop her when she opened her mouth to defend herself, his steely glare a clear warning to shut up.

"It seems I've allowed _too much_. But no more. Not in this city. I've worked too hard for too long to let a bunch of 'teen heroes' end it all now. I will not take any chances." He paused, the air practically crackling with tension. He turned his gaze to Danny—who hadn't reacted once during their entire conversation, just floated and stared into space with that haunting blank look on his face—and Star's heart stopped.

"Perhaps it's my fault you thought you could get away with another plot," Freakshow said, voice clipped and careful. "After all, I can hardly blame you for forgetting your place when no one has been reminding you."

He took a step forward and Star immediately moved between him and Danny. "Freakshow, wait. He didn't do anything. _I_ didn't even do anything. I promise I won't talk to him about the Teen Titans. You don't have to remind us of anything."

Behind her, she heard Danny's feet touch the ground. She turned to see him blink away the emptiness in his eyes, expression taking on life as if he were coming out of a daze. He looked confused for a moment, gaze fixing first on Star and then on Freakshow beyond her. He tensed.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

Freakshow raised his staff as its crystal began to emit a bright glow. Once again he assumed a cheerful tone, grinning like the madman he was. "It seems Angel has been stepping out of bounds. The coach called for an immediate penalty."

Danny went rigid.

"No!" Star cried, whipping back around to Freakshow and holding up both hands in a pleading gesture. "I swear, I won't do anything, I won't try to contact them, I won't plot, I wont—"

"I know you won't, Angel. I know."

Behind her, Danny gasped. She spun to face him and saw that his eyes were faraway, as if focused on something in the distance invisible to her. He took a sudden step back, retreating from who knew what, eyes widening in fear.

She had to forget about Freakshow. He wasn't going to relent; he was determined to make this demonstration. Accordingly, she shifted the entirety of her focus to the boy in front of her.

"Danny," she said clearly, grabbing him by the forearm just above the metal cuff on his wrist, "it's not real. Can you hear me? Focus on _me_ now; it's not real."

"It's not real," he repeated, tearing his eyes away from whatever he saw to look at Star.

"That's right, good," she encouraged. "Change back to your human self. It's not as bad when you're human, remember?"

Danny nodded. A flash of light later, and the arm she held was warm and no longer covered by his trademark black jumpsuit, though his eyes refused to change back to their natural blue. For a moment he seemed fine, until suddenly he gave a cry and shoved her away, stepping back until he hit the wall behind him. He stared at her as if she'd sprouted fangs.

Star heard Freakshow's footsteps, but didn't bother to turn and look. "When the two of you have composed yourselves," the ringmaster called, opening the door of the train car, "Phantom has somewhere to be. But take your time now, and have fun!"

_Slam_. The door was shut, and they were alone.

Cautiously, Star knelt down on the ground, keeping her distance. For now. Sudden movements wouldn't help. In her calmest voice, she did her best to keep him in touch with reality. "Danny, it's not real. Try and remember. It's not real."

Against the wall, Danny shut his eyes, pressing his knuckles to his forehead. He leaned back and slid down the wall to the ground, bowing his head and taking a deep breath. "It's not real. It's not real. It's not—"

He cut himself off with a shout, head snapping up and eyes flying wide, pupils mere pinpricks.

"Star!"

She moved close enough for him to snatch her by the wrist, grip tight enough to bruise. Almost immediately she felt the circulation being cut off from her hand, but she didn't pull away.

"I'm here. It's not real, Danny. Focus on me. _I'm_ real. Everything's going to be okay. It's not real."

He shut his eyes again, lips pressing together in a tight line. Probably trying to keep himself from crying out. But shutting his eyes wouldn't block the images in his head. And it would only be so long before he forgot he was even screaming.

Star was a good actress.

"Everything's going to be okay."

But she could never quite sell this particular lie.

* * *

It was just before one o' clock in the afternoon when a curiously green chickadee landed atop one of the booths outside the massive Circus Gothica tent. He bounced to the edge, resisting the urge to chirp some brightness into the overcast sky, and took careful note of everything he saw.

Which wasn't much, to be honest. The scattered booths and attractions were almost all deserted, save for a few crew members milling about tidying up for later in the evening, probably doubling as security.

_Doesn't seem too suspicious_, Beast Boy silently remarked. _But this is just the outside._ He fixed his gaze on the main tent, theorizing about what he might find backstage once he made his way inside. Circus performers in cages? Shackled together in chain gangs?

_Okay, that might be kinda over the top. Keep a cool head. Right._

He took to the air once again, remaining silent as possible. He flew high and higher still, passing right over the peak of the tent till he found himself on the other side, above Circus Gothica's backyard, so to speak. From the air he could also see the Circus Gothica train, unmoving on its tracks and separated from the circus itself by a field of tall grass.

Directly below him he saw equipment placed about the lawn behind the tent. Descending quickly, he landed on a stack of large crates, paused, and then fluttered to the ground. He briefly considered taking the form of a lizard—something no one would question if it were green—but decided he wanted a mammal's senses at the moment and changed instead into a small kitten.

He pressed himself into the grass in the shadow of the stack of crates, crawling silently on his belly to a spot with a good view of his surroundings.

_See? Totally stealthy._

He mentally catalogued the scene: more crates, some opened, some not, nets and cables and all manner of pulleys and tools, something that looked like a mid-sized crane, a cluster of smaller tents and a row of tarp-covered squares in all sizes—cages for the animal performers, perhaps?

There were a few more people in this space than out front, carrying things in and out of the shadowy back entrance of the tent. They didn't _look_ like prisoners; they moved at a leisurely pace as they worked and had mostly neutral expressions. No one looked overly distraught.

That is, until Angel stepped into view. She emerged from one of the small tents with a short pile of folded clothes in her arms, going about her business as if oblivious to the shiny tear tracks on her cheeks and the smoldering bitterness in her pale eyes.

Beast Boy didn't recognize her immediately without her makeup and costume, but something about her scent seemed familiar and caught his attention. He immediately perked up, about to change form and follow her—and then it occurred to him.

He sniffed the air again, kneading the grass with his claws in confusion as he realized Angel's was the only scent he could pick up. Sure, a kitten was no bloodhound, but he should have smelled _something_ from the other people present. But it was as if the others, according to his nose at least, weren't even there.

_Okay. Definitely suspicious._

He watched as Angel proceeded to walk away from the people and equipment, as if she were heading in the direction of the train he'd seen from above. He morphed into a dragonfly and zipped after her. He caught up just as she entered the grassy field and decided to hitch a ride, landing as quietly as possible on the back of her shirt.

He couldn't see where they were going, but it was only a few minutes later when he heard the sound of a door opening and she stepped up into one of the cars of the train. He worried for a moment about being trapped inside, but when she immediately closed the door behind her he was too late to change his mind.

For a moment she just stood there, curiously still. Beast Boy changed into a fly and buzzed away, landing on the far wall.

Below, Angel sighed. She threw down the clothes in her arms onto a mattress on the floor—_Nice digs, _Beast Boy silently commented—and then dropped to her knees on the same mattress.

She had just brushed a strand of hair from her face when she noticed something and paused. "Oh jeez, I'm still crying," she remarked, wiping her cheeks dry with her wrist. She shifted position so that she was sitting Indian-style and picked up the pillow resting on the mattress, hugging it to her chest and staring morosely at the wall.

"It's not your fault, Star," she muttered. "It's not your fault. It's never your fault. It's not your fault you're stupid, no. I won't let you apologize because it's _not your fault._ Right. I just spent almost an hour stuck inside a waking nightmare, but it's not your fault you got me in trouble and I got to pay for your mistake. Goodness no, _it's not your fault!_"

Suddenly she threw the pillow so that it smacked into the wall, glaring at it as if the white lump had personally offended her. She swiped angrily at the new tears that started to run down her cheeks before drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, letting out a shaky breath as she closed her eyes and buried her head in her arms.

_Something has got to be wrong here,_ Beast Boy thought. He had no idea what she'd been ranting about, but it didn't sound pleasant. _First, I can't smell those people, which can't be normal. Now Angel is crying, and someone is in trouble. Waking nightmare? Sound evil much? This whole circus is getting fishier by the second. __Is fishier even a word?_ Deciding he could figure it out later, he buzzed down to the floor and landed on the mattress beside Angel.

Time to make his presence known.

He changed into a kitten again, figuring that would startle her the least. _Girls love kittens. Cute and fluffy, right?_

With one green paw he reached out and scratched lightly at her thigh to get her attention, giving a quiet meow for good measure.

Angel's head snapped up in alarm. She stared at him, eyes wide with surprise. Then, when she'd been staring at him for a good long moment, they got even wider.

Her eyes flicked over him, back and forth, taking in the green fur, the strangely intelligent look in his eye. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. She lurched from her seat, searching the floor beneath a cot against the other wall. She located the desired object, a pen, rather quickly, and immediately scribbled something across her palm. She then held her hand up for him to see.

"_Beast Boy?"_

Confused as to why Angel refused to speak aloud now that she'd seen him, Beast Boy nevertheless followed suit and remained silent, giving only a nod and an affirming swish of his tail.

The change that came over her face was astonishing. Like dawn breaking, like winter ending. The absolute jubilation, the hope, that beamed from her smile was so wholly different from the sadness that had been there, Beast Boy thought that even if Robin never forgave him, this smile alone was worth it.


	12. In Touch

**The exact parameters of Raven's powers in the show are ambiguous at best. Something I've noticed is that fanfiction writers have a tendency to give Raven telepathy. But she's not a telepath—she's an empath. She can't just read minds willy-nilly. She can project her soul-self into others' minds, either to attack or communicate or influence their mental state (like she did with Robin in "Haunted"), but unless she does that specifically, she's not going to be able to hear others' thoughts or speak with just her mind. But she did make it clear in "Go!" that she can sense people in order to track them, and I assume she does this with her empathic powers. So this chapter has my interpretation of how she does that.**

**I've gone back and fixed a few of those embarrassing typos, but if you spot any that I missed, please tell me. Typos are evil.**

* * *

Raven couldn't help it. She was fidgeting.

Despite the fact that she was more covered than ever in a jacket and jeans, despite the fact that her change of outfit made her blend perfectly into the crowd, she felt incredibly exposed without her regular clothes. She felt naked without her cloak and hood, off-balance without the familiar weight of her jeweled belt on her hips, clumsy and awkward without her sleek leotard.

Resisting the urge to scratch at the itchy black beanie on her head—which served to cover both the chakra on her forehead and most of her purple hair—she took a deep breath and focused.

Robin walked beside her, his eyes hidden behind a pair of reflective sunglasses, his usual colors and cape replaced by a nondescript brown jacket. He, too, was focusing intently on their surroundings. No doubt his sharp eyes were catching every detail.

The Saturday crowd for Circus Gothica's outside attractions was a bit larger than the previous night's, and Raven accidentally bumped shoulders with people several times. Some of them offered a hasty apology. Some of them actually gave her dirty looks. _They wouldn't be so quick to glare at a Titan_, she thought, just as a pudgy teenage boy shoved past her and practically knocked her off her feet without so much as a backward glance.

_But you're _not_ a Titan tonight, _she had to remind herself. _You're just another member of the crowd._

"I didn't realize the costumes made that much of a difference," she remarked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice. "The sooner we find Beast Boy and get out of here, the better."

She looked to Robin for a response, but he just sighed and gave a short shake of the head, forgoing discussion on their AWOL changeling.

After a few hours of Beast Boy's absence Robin had finally gotten concerned and sent the Titans out to search for him, only to discover that he wasn't at any of his usual haunts around the city. It was Starfire who'd suggested that Beast Boy might have gone against orders and run off to the circus.

Robin hadn't exactly been thrilled.

"See if you can sense him," he curtly suggested.

Raven nodded, reaching out with her sixth sense to see if she could locate Beast Boy's familiar emotional signature. But the instant she opened her mind, she knew immediately that something was off.

The shadow of a frown touched her lips. She took a cleansing breath, and tried again.

Still. Something was not right. But what, exactly, was she sensing?

Placing a hand on Robin's arm to halt their walk, she reached through the cloud of emotions hanging like a fog over the crowd, mentally pausing here and there to look at specific signatures as she pinpointed them. Each one she found seemed normal, so what was it that was bothering her?

Finally, after the fifth person she'd examined, Raven realized something. None of the signatures she'd found belonged to the entertainers. She hadn't felt anything emanating from the circus freaks.

Taken aback, she reached out toward first one freak, then another, then another, searching each of them for emotional flags, even just the faintest touch of an emotional current. She strained for _some_ sign that the people she saw were present in more than just body. She felt nothing.

_How could they all be immune to my powers? If they're feeling anything at all, which as human beings they are, I should be able to register some emotion. I shouldn't even have to try._

Frustrated, she stepped to the side of a booth where she was less likely to be bowled over by inconsiderate passersby. Robin joined her wordlessly, and though he was clearly curious about her behavior, he refrained from questioning her just yet. She gave him a quick glance of appreciation and then closed her eyes.

A man had been standing across from them, gaunt and gangly with an enormous green snake around his shoulders. She pictured him in her mind; she _would_ crack through whatever barrier kept her from sensing him. Beast Boy would just have to wait until she'd fixed this problem.

One by one, she blocked out all distractions. The itchy beanie, the uncomfortable clothes, the smells, the slight breeze, the garbled din of voices and strange noises. All that remained was the one freak, the one man, the one emotional signature she had to unearth.

"Azarath, metrion, zinthos," she breathed.

All at once she felt the world fall away around her in a rushing whisper, taking all the weight of reality with it. She opened her eyes and found herself facing a wall—looming, black, and endless from side to side. She reasoned that this was a representation of whatever was blocking her power. No problem.

"And the walls came tumbling down," she murmured, lifting her hands.

But the instant she did so, a feeling of cold overtook her. She gasped, dropping her arms and curling in on herself, muscles seizing from the shock of the icy blast that shot through her. Shivering, she lifted her head to look at the wall. It almost seemed to hum with power, warning her not to threaten it again. She knew instinctively she had to back away, but the coldness slowed her down. A heaviness began to press on her from within, making it hard to breathe, making it hard to move, full of a finality that made her self-preservation scream like a thousand alarms ringing at once.

"Azarath metrion zinthos!"

Raven's eyes flew open, her senses abruptly bombarded with noise and sensation, Robin's face swimming into view. Her head itched.

Before her, Robin sighed in relief. She blinked her eyes into better focus and realized she was kneeling on the grass beside the booth again, Robin holding her tightly by the shoulders. She could still feel some of that deathly chill, and she felt considerably weaker than she had just moments ago. And sick. She felt sick.

"What just happened?" Robin demanded, releasing her shoulders now that she had come to.

Raven reached beneath the stupid beanie to massage her temples, taking deep breaths to try and calm her stomach. "I'm not sure," she replied. "But there's definitely something wrong here. I can't sense any of the circus members. I tried to focus on just one of them, but there's something… in the way."

"What do you mean, 'in the way?'"

"I told you, I'm not sure. It's… cold. And dark. It felt… like it had sucked all the life out of existence. Like death." She couldn't help shuddering.

She opened her eyes as Robin stood and offered her a hand, his face tense and serious. She took the hand and let him pull her to her feet, stomach churning at the movement.

"We have to find Beast Boy," Robin said, scanning the crowd once again. "Whatever is messing with your powers, it can't be good. Maybe he knows something about it by now."

"I'll try and find him again."

* * *

"He thinks he's so brilliant," Danny said, turning the cardboard page of the little book in front of him. This page had the picture of a puppy, with a sticky patch of pink where its tongue stuck out. He gave the sticky spot an obligatory poke before turning the page again. "But he's not so brilliant. I mean, if my parents hadn't come up with the ghost portal technology first, he would _never_ have been able to make the portable one for Freakshow. Portable portal. Doesn't that sound stupid?"

His companion remained silent. Just like he had all afternoon. Danny sighed, then continued.

"Just because he was able to program the portal to open to a specific set of coordinates in the ghost zone no matter where the portal was opened in the human dimension, he thinks he has a right to brag about it. Please. My parents could have done that in their sleep if they'd had a reason to. Heck, _I_ probably could have done it. I know more about their tech than anyone. Except, well, them."

Danny got a blink in response. _Well, at least it's something._

"Kid, this is going to be a _long_ day."

Danny had spent the morning as a go-between, working out the new terms of Vlad's and Freakshow's agreement. To save a little time, he'd created a duplicate of himself and sent it to Vlad's, while he remained with Freakshow. All he had to do then to relay information was switch between his two minds, instead of traveling back and forth through the ghost zone.

Freakshow and Vlad argued like two old penny-pinchers, forcing Danny to repeat all their stupid complaints and bargaining himself, because heaven forbid either of them deign to step out of their own office and traverse the ghost zone for an actual meeting.

"He can't just add another method of payment like that!" Freakshow had insisted. "Go back and tell him he won't get something for nothing!" And Danny had switched awareness over to the duplicate with Vlad.

Vlad had asserted his own case. "With all the mayoral duties I must attend to, it only seems fair that I am further compensated for sacrificing more of my time in pursuit of his ridiculous whims! You _will_ spend time with the clone. I won't budge on that!" So Danny returned to his mind at Circus Gothica.

And so on and so forth.

At last they'd agreed that yes, Danny would spend time with his clone to see if further interaction stimulated some improvement, but only on one condition.

Vlad's "temporary solution" had to become a reality before Circus Gothica moved on from Jump City. Vlad had been hesitant to agree, hemming and hawing till he finally admitted that if he put all his effort into the project, and "temporarily neglected those duties to which a responsible mayor _should _attend," a tangible product _was_ conceivable.

Danny found the entire deal repellent. It twisted up his nerves with anxiety, to think he was helping two mentally unstable villains achieve success in their individual mad science experiments. Not only that, but to know that he, himself, was the _inspiration_ for both experiments? It was almost painful.

_Star always wants to blame herself when things go wrong,_ he thought as he tossed aside the little picture book and selected a toy piano instead, _but at least she doesn't put people in danger just by existing._

He thought back to earlier that day, when he'd finally come out of the hallucinations and Star had done nothing but apologize, over and over again, until finally he'd once again had to remind her that she wasn't the person responsible.

"Are you the one who put these things on me?" he'd asked, holding up his wrists to show the metal bands around them. Reluctantly, she'd said no. "Were you the one holding the staff?" And she'd heaved a miserable sigh. "Then it's not your fault," he'd affirmed.

They really did repeat themselves a lot.

The only good thing to come out of these "episodes" was that Star would sometimes sing to try and calm him down. She wouldn't normally sing just because he asked her, saying it made her too self-conscious. Which didn't make sense to Danny, because she'd been in the school choir and starred in a musical, but girls were nonsensical like that sometimes.

"Here, I've got another one you'll like," she'd said, just as the last nightmarish vision had begun to wind down. "This was one of the first songs we did in choir. It has your name in it."

And even though the nightmares had completely gone by the time she was through, he didn't say anything to stop her, just because it was nice to put his head on her shoulder and close his eyes and listen without something horrifying tearing through his mind. Plus, it really did have his name in it.

"Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, from glen to glen, and down the mountain side…"

Replaying the song in his head and humming along, Danny tried to plink out the tune on the toy piano, but there weren't enough keys to go beyond the first three notes. He heaved another sigh and looked back up at the silent toddler sitting on the floor in front of him.

They waged a staring contest for a few seconds before Danny spoke up again. "Seriously, I can't tell if you're cute or creepy. Every time I think I know for sure, you give me that look and then I can't decide. It's weirding me out."

Danny sat up from where he'd been lying on the floor, noting that the clone's eyes were still following his movements. His wispy little eyebrows momentarily twitched, as if considering making a facial expression before chickening out.

"I don't know what exactly Vlad is expecting here. You won't even look at all these toys and stuff. If I were you, I'd totally get a kick out of this. Look at how colorful this little piano is. And it makes _noise._"

He turned the piano around and pushed it across the carpet toward the clone, hitting one of the keys a few times before retracting his hand. "See? Isn't it great?"

Slowly, uncertainly, the clone's large eyes moved down to the piano. Danny imagined rusty cogs straining to turn in his head as he stared at the baffling contraption before him. After a very long ten seconds, the toddler finally gave up and returned his gaze to Danny.

Danny fell onto his back with an exasperated groan.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait to go back to the circus."

* * *

Beast Boy was right about Robin—he certainly didn't look happy.

When she'd finally spotted Robin and Raven in the crowd, Star had practically leapt for joy. But Raven had suddenly turned and locked gazes with her, and all Star's bubbly feelings vanished. Raven's stare was too intense, a furrow in her brow. And Robin, when he recognized her, had looked even more upset.

Remembering her reason for seeking them out, Star glanced around and made sure none of the ghosts were paying attention to her, then beckoned the two disguised Titans over with her hand. After exchanging looks with each other, they proceeded to walk toward her.

When they were close enough, she began to walk away, dodging and weaving around all the bodies in her path but always keeping the Titans in sight. Of course, they followed, but she made sure to keep a discreet distance between them until she'd finally made it to the edge of the crowd and ducked behind the gypsy's booth—one of the few places without people _or_ a surveillance camera fixed on it.

As Robin and Raven rounded the booth to join her, Robin immediately opened his mouth. "Where's—"

Star held up one hand to stop him, using the other to put a finger to her mouth in a demand for silence.

Robin's hands curled into fists, but he obeyed.

Raven was watching her intently, similarly to the way she had the first time they'd met. It was a little unnerving, but Beast Boy had informed her that Raven was the one who'd noticed she was in trouble, so Star decided the girl's focus was a good thing.

Star held out a finger by her shoulder, and immediately a bright green butterfly crawled onto it from her shirtsleeve. She gave him a grateful smile before extending her hand; Raven quickly reached out and the butterfly hopped onto her finger instead.

Star clasped her hands together in front of her and gave them a thankful nod, wishing she could satisfy the impatient curiosity in their eyes and answer all the questions that she could practically feel building up behind their lips. She stepped backward, making it clear with her hands that she was not to be followed, and once again left them to wonder.

_Now_, she thought, expertly maneuvering back through the throng of people toward the main tent, _all I have to do is trust Beast Boy and keep my mouth shut, and hopefully—hopefully—_

She didn't dare put the rest of the sentence into words, not even in her head. She might jinx everything.

Seeing as she didn't have a moment to find somewhere quiet and kneel down like she'd done so far, Star figured it was excusable to pray on the go. At least, she hoped so.

_So I guess I need to thank you for everything so far. I'm pretty sure that thanking is supposed to be part of it. Actually, was I supposed to do that before? Well if I was, um, I'm sorry, but I'm doing it now. Thank you for sending Beast Boy. And please let everything keep working out. It's really, really great. _

_And please let Danny be okay. I don't know what he's so busy with today, but… I'm worried whenever he disappears for long periods of time. Keep him safe until this is all over, please? And also…_

This was going to be hard. She didn't really want to ask for this one.

_Please help me not to tell Danny about the Teen Titans. I'm going to want to try and tell him somehow, but it's just not safe until the Titans are ready to get us out of here. I don't want to risk another torture session._

_I hope I'm not asking too much, but it's for Danny's own good. __It's better this way._

* * *

**In case you've never heard the song "Danny Boy," or if you just want a reminder of how it goes, might I recommend a couple of my favorite versions? Just search "Celtic Woman - Danny Boy" on YouTube, and both of the first two videos are equally beautiful. The first video features four women, the second features one with a group of backup singers.**

**(I will hint that at about 1:59 on the first video and 2:06 on the second, you may hear something enlightening...)**


	13. Argue

**Once again, I have no excuse for why it's taken me so long to update. I wish I did.**

**If you're in a forgiving mood, I invite you to participate in my poll regarding Danny's little clone. There's only two options, so you'll have to be sure of your answer****! I've got over a hundred followers, and I hope most of you will share your opinion.**

**I will also mention that I've added a very short note on Raven's healing powers at the end of Chapter 9. Since her healing will probably come up again, you may want to read it if you haven't already.**

* * *

"Okay," Beast Boy began, "First thing's first." Human now, he settled himself on the grass behind the gypsy's booth. Robin immediately sat down across from him, hands on his knees and back ramrod straight. Raven knelt beside him, easily schooling her face into mask of indifference in preparation for whatever Beast Boy had to tell them.

Beast Boy fixed them with a serious look. "So," he said, "I'm _pretty_ sure she's not just crazy."

In the moment of quiet that followed, Raven could practically _hear_ Robin's already fragile patience crack. She cast him a sidelong glance just in time to see the entire right side of his face twitch.

"You're… 'pretty sure,'" Robin repeated, skillfully keeping his tone as even as possible.

Beast Boy gave a vigorous nod. "Yeah. Pretty sure."

As if silently praying for the strength to remain calm, Robin momentarily bowed his head and took a slow breath through the nose. If there wasn't a potential hostage situation, creepy circus freaks, and problems with her powers to worry about, Raven might have found it funny.

"That has got to be one of the most unhelpful things I have ever heard come out of your mouth," Robin finally snapped.

"And that's saying something," Raven muttered. Robin shot her a look, not appreciative of the joke. Beast Boy, similarly, glowered at her.

_You know something's wrong when I'm the one with a sense of humor,_ Raven thought. Wisely, she decided to keep that observation to herself.

"It's _not_ unhelpful," Beast Boy protested. "Especially once you hear the rest of it!"

"Then tell us the rest of it before I drag you back to the Tower for bathroom cleaning duty!"

Beast Boy grimaced, visibly shuddering and holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Alright, jeez, don't get so impatient!"

"I have every right to be impatient!" Robin retorted. "You went against direct orders to sneak out here into a potentially dangerous situation without telling anyone where you'd gone! If there's something crooked going on, what were we supposed to do if, number one, something had happened to you, or number two, you made the situation worse for the victims by bumbling in here?"

Beast Boy pouted, looking guiltily down at his hands and tugging on one of his gloves. "I didn't 'bumble' in here," he mumbled. "And she was happy to see me. You have no idea how happy…"

Robin crossed his arms, lips pinching together into a thin line.

Beast Boy sighed. He dared to look up again, apologetic. "Okay, I'm sorry. But I knew I could help, and you weren't going to let me. I had to do something."

They watched each other carefully for a moment before Robin finally seemed to relax, the rigid tension draining from his posture. "What's done is done," he sighed. He seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head. "So get to the story. What's going on at this circus?"

Beast Boy sat up a little straighter. "Alright. Here's what I know." He took a deep breath. "When I first showed up, nothing seemed too weird. Well, this place is always weird, but nothing looked like there was anything bad going on. Some of the performers looked like they were setting up for the show. It was quiet. But I started to notice a couple things that were… weirder than normal."

"Like what?" Robin asked.

Beast Boy frowned. "For one thing, I can't smell the circus people. None of the freaks have a scent."

Raven blinked, startled. She and Robin glanced at each other, both thinking back to her own inability to sense the circus freaks.

"And another thing," Beast Boy went on, "was that Angel was crying when I found her, and going on about nightmares and getting in trouble. And I didn't realize this until later, but when I got here _no one_ was talking. At all. None of the freaks setting up were talking to any other freaks. So things were kind of fishy from the start, but then they got even fishier."

"Fishier doesn't sound like it should be a word," Raven commented.

Robin waved her away. "Never mind that. How did things get fishier?"

Beast Boy began using his hands to narrate, explaining how he snuck into the train car with Angel and got her attention, and then how she wrote on her hand instead of speaking to him.

"For a while we had to write all over our hands and arms with her pen," Beast Boy explained. "It was… weird. But she showed me this thing on her wrist," and he clasped his right fingers around his left wrist to demonstrate, "and told me it records everything she says. And it tracks her, too. She can't leave or say anything that would make the ringmaster mad. And then she told me—" He cut off, suddenly looking uncertain. He played with his gloves again to stall. "See, this is the part where that thing about her not being crazy comes in…"

"I'll be the judge of that," Robin said. "You're just making a report. Just say it."

Beast Boy nodded. "When we ran out of room on our arms to write on she got this pillow case and turned it inside out, and we started writing on that. She said—wrote—that the ringmaster, Freakshow, kidnapped her and her friend a year ago. And then she said…" He trailed off again and then took another breath. Glancing around, he lowered his voice and leaned forward. "She said Freakshow, her friend, and her were the only humans in the circus, and all the others… are _ghosts_."

Robin stilled. Raven's hand grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, tension written in the tautness of her arm, her eyes sharp when he turned to meet them.

"Back there," Robin said quickly, "when you couldn't sense them, you said—"

"Something was in the way," Raven finished.

"Like it had sucked the life out of existence."

"Like…"

Neither of them finished the thought, too busy running all the clues through their minds, assessing, questioning, wondering—Was it possible?

Beast Boy looked uneasily between them, his insecurity mounting in the face of their silence. "It wouldn't be the craziest thing we've seen," he prompted. "I'm telling you, I can't smell them, and those special effects at the show were _really_ special, and Angel really, really didn't seem crazy—"

"Beast Boy," Raven interrupted. She looked him square in the eye. He looked earnest; he _felt_ earnest to her sixth sense. She hesitated, but only for a moment. "I believe you. I believe Angel."

Beast Boy blinked, staring at her as if he didn't quite understand what she'd said.

Robin interjected. "Are you sure?" he asked Raven, tone deadly serious.

Raven glanced at him, then looked down at her hands.

She was the closest thing they had to an expert on the occult. If anyone knew anything about dead people and spirits, it had to be her. The only problem was…

"I won't lie. I don't know much about ghosts," she admitted. "I know a few supposed facts. Old myths, a few ancient ghost-warding techniques. I've never tested out anything I know or ever encountered a real ghost. Right now I don't have any way to prove that Angel is telling the truth."

She met Beast Boy's eyes again. "But I have no way of disproving her either. And after what happened with my powers, and your animal senses…it makes as much sense as anything else."

Beast Boy, apparently reading the truth of her words in her expression, practically glowed with relief. He flashed her a brilliant smile that was impossible not to return with a small grin of her own.

"Ghosts," Robin said. He shook his head slowly, a mixture of awe and trepidation, and dropped his head in his left hand. "It may not be the craziest thing we've seen. But it's definitely up there."

He briefly closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh before lifting his head and straightening up again. "Alright. Did she tell you anything else?"

"Not much," Beast Boy said. "Her friend's name is Danny. He's got bracelet things like she does."

"Did she tell you _why_ they were kidnapped? Why there are ghosts that want to work for a circus?"

"All she said about getting kidnapped was that Freakshow was after her friend, and used her to get to him. It was really hard writing on a pillowcase. She said she'd give us the details when we could find a better way to talk."

"He used her to get to her friend?" Raven asked. "Does that mean they're a couple?"

Beast Boy stared at her as if the thought hadn't even occurred to him. He frowned, deeply, clearly not pleased with the idea. "She didn't say…"

"That's something we'll have to find out later," Robin said. "Now what did she say about these ghosts?"

Slightly less eager to talk now, Beast Boy nevertheless gave his answer. "She said Freakshow controls them with a crystal ball. They're not here of their own free will."

"But why would he use ghosts in his circus instead of people? Just for entertainment's sake? For the special effects, like you mentioned?"

Beast Boy held up his hands. "Beats me. Like I said, it's not easy or fun writing on a pillowcase. The pen kept slipping over the material and we had to write bigger than we wanted to so we could even make the letters out."

Robin growled in frustration. "We have to know more. But how are we supposed to talk to her when she's being recorded?"

"_Why _do we have to know more?" Beast Boy questioned. "What's stopping us from just busting in there, grabbing Angel and her friend, and busting out?"

Raven shook her head. "We don't know what we're up against," she countered. "If this whole circus is secretly run by ghosts, they probably have some defenses to prevent us from doing just that. We've never fought ghosts before; we'd be unprepared."

"Hey, I got in there just fine. If her friend hadn't been gone all day, I probably would have just taken 'em both and made a break for it."

"And then what?" Robin argued. He pointed an accusing finger. "They've got _tracking devices_ on them. This is why I didn't want you to go charging in alone; you have no idea what the consequences could have been if you'd acted before knowing the full story."

"Well unless you want to chop off her hand to get rid of the stupid bracelet thing, we're not going to be able to get the full story!" Beast Boy retorted.

Robin kneaded his forehead in thought. "Maybe Cyborg could think of something," he said. "Maybe he'd know how to deactivate the device. No, wait—then the ringmaster would find out we're investigating. Maybe he could get it off of her—but there might be a reason she hasn't taken it off herself. And then we'd have to worry about the friend; if we found a way to remove the device, we'd have to make sure we could get it off of _both_ of them. But we don't know where the friend is. We don't even know what he looks like…"

Robin trailed off into silence, and a long stretch of quiet fell between the three of them. Raven sat calmly, face blank as usual, masking her thoughts. Beast Boy fidgeted, pulling at the grass beneath him. Robin laced his fingers together and glared down at them in contemplation.

At last Raven closed her eyes and began to chant silently, willing her mind to open to some solution. _How do we talk to Angel? She's got a device on her wrist. That means we either have to keep writing things down, which is completely impractical, but possible, or find some way to get around the device itself…_

An inkling of a thought occurred to her. She opened her eyes, letting the inkling grow, questioning it and getting what seemed like solid answers from herself.

"I… I may have an idea."

* * *

Her face went through a rapid series of changes the second he walked in.

She saw him in the mirror, of course; that's how it always began when he came into the dressing room. Her hands stilled halfway through her second braid. Her face went blank with surprise, eyes locked on his reflection, body a statue.

Then the statue came to life, swiveling around in her chair, eyes sparking, face brightening with happiness so strong it stopped him in his tracks and sent a strangely gratifying pang straight through him.

But almost instantly, the happiness dimmed. The shadow of a cringe passed over her face; her eyes darkened with guilt before they ran over his form to assess him both physically and emotionally.

She met his eyes and opened her mouth to say something. Bit her lip to stop herself. She seemed conflicted, nervous, and then looked down at the ground and steeled herself.

She breathed a quiet, shaky sigh and raised her head.

"Hi."

Danny didn't know whether to laugh or worry. Or whether to just give in and do something he'd feel stupid for later—because at this point, they'd established that hugging was well within acceptable limits, but if he were to just walk up and plant one on that expressive pink mouth, he was pretty sure Star would flip.

So all he did was say, "Hi."

Star relaxed a little, those pink lips he'd been thinking about pulling into a self-conscious smile as she seemed to realize how perplexing her reaction had been. She reached up to resume plaiting her hair.

"So, um… how are you feeling?" she asked.

He shrugged, walking forward and turning to lean back against the table holding all the makeup. She turned back around in her chair to keep him in her line of vision. "Fine," he replied. "No flashbacks today."

_Oops._ He mentally slapped himself as her expression slipped back into guilt. _Idiot. Why would you say that?_

"O-oh," she said, not meeting his eyes. She picked up a small elastic from off the table and tied off her completed braid. "Good. That's good."

_So much for not making things awkward between us_, Danny thought.

"Star," he sighed, taking her now free hand, "really, I'm fine." Hand-holding was usually as acceptable as hugging, so long as there were no added gestures. The smallest things could sometimes make her uncomfortable, like the time when all he did was trace the curve of her finger with his thumb and she'd pulled her hand away. _Why do girls have to make everything into a confusing set of rules?_ he wondered.

Star sighed too. "If you say so," she replied, not pushing the matter. Danny had to grin; Star had learned by now that arguing with him about his well-being wasn't always worth it.

She gave his fingers a slight squeeze before pulling hers away and clapping her hands together. "Alright. We'd better start painting your face if we don't want to be late for our act."

Her own makeup and costume already on, just missing the wings, she hopped down from the chair and directed Danny to take her place. He obediently complied, heaving an exaggerated groan as she pulled out the box full of brushes and sponges and colored creams and paint.

Star rolled her eyes, taking out the black stuff first. "You big baby; it's just a little makeup."

"Don't know if you got the memo, but guys don't _do_ makeup." Accordingly, he eyed the goopy stuff she was scooping up with extreme distaste.

"Well this guy does. And he dances, too. He's actually really good at it. It's great."

"Hey, you're the one who taught me. Don't make me sound like some geeky, naturally dancey guy from High School Musical or something."

She snickered, pausing with the black makeup halfway to his face. "Dancey guy?" she repeated, quirking one eyebrow in question.

"You know what I mean," he grinned, poking her in the ribs.

She squeaked and jumped away like he'd zapped her. "If you tickle me I'm going to mess up your face!" she chastised, trying not to smile. "And then we'll be late, and the audience will boo us out of the ring. And I don't want to get booed at!"

"Fine, fine, I promise not to make you mess up my face."

"Good."

She got to work quickly, giving him an authoritative (but also amused) glare if he so much as twitched. By the time she'd finished with the black, she seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood given all that had happened that afternoon.

_Guess that means it's time to tell her_, Danny thought.

Before she could start using the gold paint, he spoke up. "Star?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"I need to tell you something. It's no big deal, just thought you should, uh, know."

She stopped what she was doing to look at him. Just as he'd expected, she looked suspicious. "You always say it's no big deal right before you tell me something that's gonna upset me," she said, eyes narrowing.

He held up his hands defensively. "No, it's really no big deal this time," he assured her. "It's just… Well, I'm not going to sleep on the train tonight. That's all."

She frowned. "Where else would we sleep?"

"No, Star, _I'm_ not going to sleep on the train. Just me." It took a moment, but then he watched as her eyes lit with angry realization, as her lips parted in shock, and prepared himself for the inevitable argument.

"Why—But you can't—Danny, you _just_ had that… That was _just_ this afternoon that Freakshow got mad! A few hours ago! Maybe you haven't had any flashbacks so far, but you can't be _alone_ when it gets dark. You need to be with me! Where are you supposed to sleep? Is this part of why you've been gone all day?"

He tried to take her hand again to calm her down, but she would have none of it. "Star, it's _not_ a big deal! I told you, I'm doing fine. I'm not going to flip out and have nightmares. Would you please just take my word for it?"

"No, I'm not going to just 'take your word for it,' you never tell me the truth," she snapped. "In fact, now I'm beginning to wonder if you're being honest about not having any flashbacks today!"

Frustrated, Danny grabbed hold of her arm and refused to let go, holding her in place so that he could meet her glare head on. "Look, it's not my idea not to sleep on the train. Freakshow is still upset and doesn't want us being around each other any more than we have to be, and I have some things I have to do. But I swear, I'm going to be _fine_."

"And how do I know you're not just saying that for my benefit?" she argued, practically yelling now. "You always do this—It's like you don't even care that you're making people worry. Like you're allowed to be worried when we do this stupid act, but I'm not allowed to be worried back, and it's just not fair! You're not the only one who wants to keep people safe!"

"I _know_ that!" he shouted. "But again, it's not my decision to make! When I leave you it's not just for the fun of it; if I didn't have to go, I wouldn't! Because frankly, I don't like leaving _you_ alone any more than you like leaving me alone, okay?"

To his surprise, she actually faltered. All traces of anger vanished from her face, leaving it open, surprised and... something else. He felt his own expression go blank in response, and suddenly realized that when he'd grabbed her arm he'd simultaneously tugged her closer.

_I should let go_, he thought. He assessed how close she really was, and it was close enough that if he'd wanted to, the chair was definitely tall enough that even though he was sitting while she stood it would only take about a second to close the gap and…

_Yeah, I should really let go._

But that must not have been the message his brain sent to this fingers, because instead, they trailed down her arm to gently take her hand.

"Okay?" he asked again, quietly this time.

And then his brain must have just decided to stop working completely, because he lifted that hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

She stared at him, frozen, for one terrible, centuries-long second. Still too close, not even a foot between them, and for just _one_ shocking second it seemed as if that less-than-a-foot gap was about to disappear.

But all at once she blushed so deeply and so furiously that some of the color actually showed through the white covering her face. She snatched her hand back and looked away, turning back to the forgotten gold face paint while Danny could only sit in stupefied horror.

"Okay," she practically whispered.

They didn't speak again for the rest of the night.

* * *

**I swear I wasn't planning this little moment between Danny and Star. It just... happened. **

**(But, although I may not have planned it, I won't say I didn't enjoy it...)**


End file.
